Existence: The Story of My Life
by Anonymousguy101
Summary: This is going to be a redo of my now- in my opinion- failed story. It will be an intricate series of flash backs into my OC's- Junior- life in his travels through Existence. Okay, summary time. Junior thought he had a great life: a beautiful girlfriend, a caring family, two of the best friends in the world, was an awesome cook... (More on the inside.) Read and Review. Reviews good!
1. Chapter 0: Existence Explained

**Summary: This is the story of Junior, and how everything in his life changed when his girlfriend tried to kill him, leaving him for dead in the hands of a space-time crack. He meets the Doctor, Rose Tyler, and then has to fight for his existence in the most upside-down worlds known to creation. AKA: the Existence. The Existence is everything, but Junior isn't attached to it anymore. So, what does this make him? A paradox, or something more?**

**A/N: Hey, peeps! I made this a while ago, but this chapter is the one that I intend to keep. Well, the first part, anyway. My story will have a release schedule- if I remember to make one- in the next chapter I post in however many days or weeks for part one. Yes, I am making this story into a chapter-of-part series. So, yeah, I'll get right on that. This is merely me reloading all the work I did before to make it far, far, FAR better. I have plans to make the complex structure from before become a series filled with intermittent flash-backs of Junior's life while he traveled through Existence. The concept is mostly inspired by Once Upon a Time, but I hadn't thought about it when I came up with the idea. So that means I didn't just intentionally copy it!**

**Okay, so this is merely a little prologue that I created. No story-plot elements, save for explaining how the whole of Existence is structured. Okay, I'll also warn you this: I tend to TALK LIKE HELL in my author's notes. Just a warning. Also, note that I will be thinking through the eyes of the most sugar-addicted, couples-crazed fangirls. So, expect a lot of couples and pairings in the future. And, no, this will remain T-rated because I am just a fourteen year-old teenager with little to no social life. Also, I'm a total night owl.**

**Guilty as charged. XD**

**Alright, let's get to it!**

_**THE EXISTENCE OF OUR WORLDS AND THOUGHTS**_

**Chapter 0: Definition of My Life**

There was an orb. No, _is_ an orb. This orb was unlike any other that was or could come to be. Why, some would wonder, was this?

Because it was the Existence.

Inside, contained by walls of non-dimensional energy, was more orbs. But they were cemented together by a layer of non-universal matter called the Barrier. The orbs held in the Barrier were infinite in quantity. They would divide numerous times in what would be called a second. These orbs were Realities, just starting to grow. To exist. To house matter and energy and stuff. Tons of stuff.

But these realities were unstable. They couldn't remain in place, nor remain existent for more than the smallest units of time. And still sometimes even less than that.

The realities grew, aged in less than a fraction of a fraction of a fraction of a second, and then split before abruptly collapsing on itself. No true organization remained inside those realities. This vicious, unyielding cycle continued until I came along.

And when I did, somehow there was balance. There was a new structure. Some might recognize the pattern as one that the same number of planets had when they were stolen from home- uprooted from both time and space- and plopped down in the Medusa Cascade by the Daleks. The new order was of the twenty-seven realities. And they were, are, and still will be stable, remaining in perfect balance. But this balance is fragile, and it took a dire cost to keep it that was.

But, I've explained enough about the realities. What about their housing, the orb called Existence?

Well, Existence holds inside it the Barrier, and all the realities held both together and apart by the Barrier. Yet this orb that held other orbs that were held together and apart by a Barrier, it wouldn't divide. It would never grow. Within it, time could exist. Outside, nothing would ever exist. Time-experiencing creatures would have never been born, would never have existed, and would never be remembered. Not even by a time traveling timelord. Well, there of course comes back to me, as one can be remembered by me.

I am the only one of my kind that will ever exist for more than a femtosecond. I am unique in every way. I am the one who made the realities stable. I am the one that created the existence sphere, in the time before time, in the ancient time when there was no matter, only energy, floating around, but then I made matter happen, and energy fell. Never have I felt such an energetic event since.

But enough about me. What about you? And those little tiny bubbles you are held inside?

Sitting inside those orbs called realities, were ever so tiny universes. They held a near infinite quantity of matter, and energy, and most of all, no stuff. Because the universes hated it- the stuff, I mean- and they spat it back out, to create the void stuff. The Barrier stuff too.

And I know where it all comes from. But I can't even begin to explain without telling you more about me. I have no clue where to begin, though, there's so much. So, let's see…

Oh, I know where it all starts. It all began with my girlfriend, holding me at gunpoint, and a crack in time that not only killed me the first time, but ended up saving my life thousands of times over, throughout the realities, through the multiverse, and throughout the entirety of the Existence.

If it hadn't been for that day, I wouldn't be talking to you. But, then again, there is no way I couldn't have somehow gotten here. I am a fixed event. No, not just an event. I make a century look like an event. I am over ten thousand years old, I named myself after one of the few- likely only- caring timelords, I have fallen in love with so many, healed so many more as well, and helped to build the Existence- all without knowing how it could come to this, so soon in my time.

What is "this", you say? Ha-ha-ha… You have no idea.

When I say "this", I mean my penultimate death. I have lived long, and write this as a warning to all those who should ever find it. This, I must forever warn you:

_The light of life shall not shine in strife,_

_Never again shall the death end as has once been._

_Let the Existence forever fall or let him stand tall,_

_But never let the Existence have penultimate endeavor._

Why does this matter? I'll tell you why…

…in all due time. I didn't even know about this until a certain timelady named Clara came to me within the first hour of my only ever visit to Gallifrey. But, as I was saying before, I mean what all leads to my death.

Oh, and I bet you're wondering how in the hell I managed to write this _after_ my death? Well, frankly, I didn't exactly have to _after_ I died. In fact, as we speak, all of my legacy- every world I've ever known, every town I've ever stayed, the loves I had throughout the millennium, all of it is being written out, just for you to know, as I die for the last time. All in a split second, my story will be recorded before I die. And it will be read, throughout the worlds, written out by my various other-selves, in their own worlds, for as many people as possible to know. This is my story.

Because, that's all we are in the end: stories. Let's just hope that mine's a good one.

That is a paraphrase of the timelord I named myself after. Well, more like created a promise after. I still have a name. But it has incredible power. Even now, as my mother in my original world mutters it in her mind, just at the knowledge that she never got a chance to say goodbye, it sends a ripple through the fabric of space-time in every corner of every world. That's why I have my pseudonym. Can you guess what it is?

Not only did I name myself after the Doctor, but I did so because it _made sense_ in my mind at the time, and it still does. I wouldn't change my identity for the life of me. I am the Junior Doctor, the only surviving human metakrisis to ever occur in any world with extraterrestrial DNA, let alone from different realities, especially with two DNA chains combined with the original at one time. But, then again, that is the secret to sustaining a metakrisis: make yourself not only a timelord, but also a TARDIS.

I am me, the one who saved and created Existence, lived for ten millennia, traveled through the Barrier, become thirteen separate beings at one time, telepathic, empathic, time traveler, universe traveler, the one who split up into pieces and parts to become 'stuff'.

This is my story. And, as I said earlier, it all starts with a gun. I'll get a little more detailed before we get all boring and et cetera with all the (fake) compliments from "Erin". It all starts on my third anniversary of dating the woman of my dreams- or so I thought. I made an absolutely delicious home-cooked pasta dinner that one could never say was bad- at least I got that for real- and it was getting late. Erin had kissed me, but that's where things went terribly, yet terrifically, wrong. This is the point where the gun comes into play.

This is going to be a long one. So, sit back, put your feet up, listen to me banter while I _die_. Okay, that's a little too dramatic, but you get the picture, don't you?

Well, here goes… nothing, I guess…

**A/N: Good. I see you're still here. Or hanging by a thread, at least. Um, so, yeah, expect a chapter in the next, oh, say, week or two. At least or at the most, I don't know, but that's just an approximation anyway, so yeah, stick around, no matter how long I take. I will give you a chapter to keep you occupied every week, though, until I finish the part I am working on. This series will be long, include TONS of crossovers, and probably be very confusing. I will tell you guys, though, when it is a flash-back to whatever time it is supposed to be to. There will be many, many, MANY intricate flashbacks and ensuing story-lines.**

**Forewarning: don't flame me because I only have this in one story. I will have so many crossovers that I kind of have the running Doctor Who theme as the only thing that remains completely consistent. This is, like I said before, a redo of my original version. I, like I said before, be keeping it up for you to enjoy- or not, I expect- if you are curious. So, expect that. And, like I think I already said before, so sorry there's no true plot here. Yeah… Back to the flash back thingy now.**

**Also, I may or may not be able to completely stick to the flash-back based past-plot explanations- if I might call it that. *a little confused myself* Plus, notice my fun and quirky writing style in my author's notes that- in the future- may or may not really be a notion of ceaseless bantering or an endless lecture that fills up two pages in Microsoft Word. *rolls eyes* Whatever, at least stuff will be better this time. I **_**am**_**, however, going to keep up the original story- all three current parts and all- until I finish my first part, which is the point in the plot before all the flash backs ensue. Yikes, this is going to be confusing…**

**Hope you like it! Review me as well, please. Last time I think I failed because no one reviewed the story save for one person. Utterly failed that one… Also, I have a question and answer fanfic that I will not be editing anytime soon, but I will continue posting, so long as I have my letters- reviews, really, containing truths and dares for any of the characters you want- and people keep reading it! So, check that out as well. Merry Christmas, by the way, because I doubt that I can pull this off completely by Christmas. But, the first chapter I will have to post to keep up with the late-finish-&-attention-grabbing-update promise I made above will be posted around Christmas. So, that's that.**

**Two weeks, people! Two weeks at the most- more like only chance- until I give you the first actual chapter. So, stay tuned. Sorry if my author's note is long, I just felt the need to explain everything in as much detail as possible so that you know what to do and when to do it. So, yeah, I'm done here for now!**

**PS/REMINDER: Reviews are great people! Leave them in the comments, please. They are my drive to keep posting.**

**That's all. Bye for real this time! Happy holidays from the States!**


	2. Chapter 1: compliment, kiss, bang

**A/N: Okay, progress report… Ha-ha *nervous wreck*. Not done yet. I at least don't have to deal with fussy beta readers or anything like that. I just write it all in as few sittings- usually one, two, and occasionally three per chapter if the chapter is excessively long- as possible. I sometimes get interrupted repeatedly by my sister. If you have siblings of your own, then you know what I'm talking about.**

**Reminder: There is a T rating here. And, that T rating is not entirely the one described by Fanfiction, I will admit, but at least it follows society morals type of thing. Which, actually, might as well be nonexistent with the way innuendos are used in half the TV shows I watch- a lot more than TV-PG, don't you think? Or maybe TV-Y7. At least there's such a thing as TV-Y14. If there wasn't… The world would be violently different. So, on that happy note, let's move on!**

**Please take my warning that this is going to be a little…. Gushy lovey-dovey at first. Actually, until about halfway through because this chapter is likely the shortest plot chapter. Honestly, do you expect me to- wait, just read the chapter and then I'll finish.**

**I'm done with this section of notes. See you at the end note!**

**Chapter 1: Compliment, Kiss, Bang, Crack in Time**

"How do you do it?" Erin questioned in praise, swallowing her mouthful of pasta only just before answering. "You make the best pasta I've ever had. Well, I think maybe your mom has better cooking, but you're still young! You've got years to catch up, yet she always trusts you to make the pasta?"

"Yep," I agree.

Erin shakes her head in astonishment. "Best- cook- ever," she says slowly, and then laughs with me at the obviousness and the fact that anyone can tell that I am a very masterful chef for a sixteen year old.

"Like you didn't already know that," I counter, taking another bite.

I only trust myself with pasta. I make pastries, too- cakes and muffins and pies- but they are still all the same recipes my mom has. The pasta, though, is my personal invention, and that took a year plus six family outings to perfect. Each time, save for the first experiment, it got better. Now, with the blend of herbs, spices, cheeses, and all the right types of pasta noodles, it is very hard to make- it tastes better slightly aged, overnight in the fridge works well I found out- with each part requiring time and effort and multiple trips to the fridge or spice cabinet since I don't have enough space for all the different ingredients, to complete. I figured out a way to nicely present it, since my first version looked like some white trash mix of spices and pasta- which it kind of was because I was in a rush- but it still tasted like it did at this time: absolutely delicious. No doubt about it, I had created a winner. All my family LOVED it, and it took several tries to accurately recreate the recipe. Now, though, it's become rather fluid. At least only I know it, because someone could patent this and make millions instantly.

"I guess," Erin agreed, taking her own bite now. She shuddered a little at the over-loaded flavor. I created it so it could be over the top packed with flavor, with all those spices so easily evident. At least you can't tell which spice is which, or I'd be out of business in a heartbeat. "Oh, so good," she groaned with her mouth still full. She finished chewing, obviously savoring the flavor, and then said to me, "If I wasn't such a terrible cook, I would've coaxed the recipe out of you ages ago."

"Of course you would've," I retorted sarcastically. "Like I could trust you to keep it secret enough," I teased, taking another bite.

Erin and I always do this, even on our anniversaries. Which, we've now had three of once this night is over. I know the drill, and so does she. It's our thing. It's her turn to pretend to be offended- which she usually fails at making it look real. She's not an actor, but man, can she sing.

"You know, I could probably do a better job of keeping it out of other people's hands," she teases. "I'd just eat it all," she finishes after a dramatic pause. We laugh together in that dumb way only couples- real or fake, or just really close friends, even- can do. I was so glad we were at her place, because there was no way either of us two shy people could deal with the stares and not run for cover.

We finish off our laughter, and that cheery, now all-too-familiar glint in Erin's eye appears. I bet- heck, I know now- that I have the same kind of thing going on with me. With three years together under our belts, we now by know what that kind of look means- for her, it screams "kiss me you hilarious fool chef". Not literally that, but it's actually pretty close… not by word choice or definition, though.

And then, we kiss. It was a simple kiss- the two of us only just started a year ago, and that just goes to show how slow we like to progress. But, as I feel her pull away, I feel like I've been punched in the gut.

Literally. Only, the fist, stays in place. And, as it digs deeper, no way could it be a fist- too small and narrow. Also, too cold. I can feel the cool of the metal through my nice wool shirt. It all points to a crazy but only option: it's a gun barrel. A metal revolver, I would easily guess.

"What's-" I stutter before the gun barrel gets jabbed in harder.

"Don't ask, sweetie," Erin rebuked in a cold tone. Seems like she's trying to wear out the pet name I never really liked for me, but we both had silently put onto her. "I'll only spill blood," she continued coldly.

I take note of the situation. I'm- at the time- so glad I'm good under pressure. I can't think of why the heck she could be mad at me unless I did something wrong- which I haven't since I accidentally tripped and fell on her last winter, which ultimately was okay, since it lead to our first kiss. But this wasn't an 'okay' moment. Far from it, it screamed psychopathic killer. Something Erin was not even remotely capable of. She wouldn't harm a fly- she even stopped me from killing one once before, so I mean it literally.

"You'd shoot either way, though, wouldn't you?" I ask.

Erin's taken aback for a moment. Her face contorts into a thoughtful, critical look. "Correct," she sighs. "There's no way you are walking away from this," Erin states boldly in the same harsh manner as before. Her voice is starting to sound scratchy, like sand paper almost. I think it might just be the adrenaline of the situation. I know that mine is probably more than a little high, since I've never actually been held at gunpoint before.

Judging from the shell on her features, either this Erin is the hidden darkness that holds back all the light while letting loose the inner devil or Erin has simply gone psycho and turned dark killer. Her face is slightly taught, smug even, her eyes narrowed in scrutiny and shouting to speak slowly or die now.

And, frankly, I'd rather live as long as possible. Her parents are supposed to be home within the hour, so I guess that if I manage to convince her not to shoot or keep her distracted I might be able to delay her until her parents get here, then we'll go from there. Three heads is better than one psychopath, right?

"I'll tell you a little. But I won't explain the reasoning behind it," Erin spat. I feel like a little droplet of spit hit my cheek, but I don't dare check in case she thinks I might be doing against her will.

"Okay then," I mutter.

"Speak up when you talk to me, human," she spat again, almost hitting my eye with the slight dribble of spit coming from her mouth. Okay, now I'm worried.

Her skin is turning ashen in color, and her mouth almost seems to be… not over-salivating, but… _watering_. Definitely not my pasta- that tends to actually make one's mouth a little drier, since I add cinnamon, no matter how gross it sounds, it actually tastes good. And, watering might even be an understatement. Her throat seemed to be slightly swelling, and her speech was getting slurred from the liquid in her mouth, plus her voice sounded like her vocal cords were only half-working.

"Yes, ma'am," I try to tease, but the barrel digs in even deeper. Definitely gonna bruise, possibly damage the organs inside. Not gonna feel great at all in the morning, I thought at the time. Couldn't have thought much else. Even I could've been worn down by the pressure of the situation. My heart was racing in my throat, breathing ragged, thoughts going by before I can even acknowledge them.

"And don't kiss up to me," Erin commanded, twisting the gun since she probably knew that it couldn't have been dug in much further. Even as she spoke, it sounded like something was trying to wriggle its way up her throat. I almost shudder in disgust at the thought of what the heck it could've been, but think better of it and stay still, barely breathing.

"Stand," Erin continues.

We do so, and she keeps a firm grip on the gun with her right hand and on me with her left, keeping the former dug into me with very cunning precision, not going further, nor even slipping one tiny little bit. I hoped her finger wouldn't slip on the trigger.

Erin moves instantly closer. Not in a nice, cuddly, or friendly way at all, but definitely in a threatening, commanding way that makes my brain fire on all cylinders. For a few seconds, the only thought I have is the primordial drive to _run like hell as fast as my legs can carry me_. Of course, I don't- can't, since Erin's iron-grip on me is unrelenting. I know better than to mess with Erin's real temper in normal life- which, frankly, I wish wasn't this. Actually, I wished this to all just be some crazy nightmare that I would wake up from any moment.

Yeah, not happening, my brain tells me. This is too real and too insane of even a suggestion to be a dream. I mentally chuckle that at least my rational thought can fire off on its own right now.

Probably not the same for Erin, though. Even as we stand, her grip not quite tightening, but also not even remotely loosening, I hear the sounds of… clothes ripping.

I bet my eyes went owl-wide when the insect legs appeared. Large, spiked legs were protruding from my- now ex- girlfriend's back, horned, black, and utterly scary. Another primordial urge makes me shake a little at the sight, and not at all of my knowing or control until it stops a second later.

Luckily, Erin only chuckles evilly, but it sounds more like dry parchment rubbing between two slate blocks covered in chalk and nails on a chalkboard are sounding off in the background. "I see your DNA lets you know what my people ponce did to your ancestors," she rasps. Her voice is still high-pitched and womanly, but it still sounds like it's coming out in short bursts of sound, like she's having trouble speaking, or maybe breathing.

"Erin, what's-" I start to ask, but she glares at me savagely.

"Do you not know who I _really_ am?" she demands.

"Um- I- no, uh, I don't," I stutter, barely even managing that. Her breath is… terrible. Not something I wish to describe in detail, but when I breathed in next, I could actually _taste_ the rotten eggs, cabbage, and rotten food that likely went into it.

She chuckles her rasping laughter. "Then you are a clever chef, but still an ignorant fool when it comes to people and creatures. You wanted to study bioelectronics, didn't you? Well, anatomy and life science are key ingredient," she rasped. "Take another look, and this time, think hard about it." Then, after a moment of pondering scrutiny, she adds, "Science fiction can easily be based off real life things. Of course, I may not exist here, but I can in a certain _book_."

I take a good look, and think hard. When she says "book", the ridiculous yet- again- only possible answer clicks into place. She's not from my universe, I guess. That or my planet. Likely the former, though. A book, huh? Try five. "The Styx," I mutter.

"And so much more," she coughs. Her hand lets go of me, but I can see the insect legs poising for the kill in the case I even flinch. Meanwhile, the rest of her body is writhing and shaking and slightly contorting into a blank slate of flesh. When the motion stops, I am dumbfounded. Standing before me is a now faceless, generally featureless feminine figure, the only remains of Erin- or whatever her name is supposed to be- being her insect legs and teeth in her now webbed mouth.

"See what I am!" she exclaims, voice a now richer and deeper groan than before. "A clone, a mere impression of life, created by the greatest warrior race to ever exist, and a clone of the greatest species from Earth to ever colonize its crust," she declares. "I am still a hybrid clone, though. That fool girl- a mistake, she was- she is who I am modeled after. That foolish boy and her dared to oppose my masters- all three of them- and they paid the price by sealing themselves away in the inner planet."

"You- you're a clone of- her?!" I gamble.

"Yes, foolish man," the Elliot clone wheezes. "You ought to know that I am more Styx than she ever was, though, as I developed when the Phase was initiated," she continued, bad breath forcing its way up my nose and making my eyes water a little. I was glad I had a strong stomach, or I'd have long since thrown up.

"Why are you here, then?" I ask.

"Because my three masters- the Styx, Daleks and Sontarans- all agree it to be so. I am to erase the greatest threat to their plans to take over all the worlds right now!" she exclaimed, and shot.

The pain was excruciating. I fell down as she pulled back. My hand went to my aching abdomen, and came back covered in blood. I feel tired suddenly, and I know I've lost a lot of blood. My heart is still racing, and my breathing seems to just keeping getter harder and harder to draw.

"Your masters… there's three of them? All of them so powerful…" I manage to remark, head staying on the ground. My body won't move anymore, but my eyes can still wander, no matter how heavy my eyelids seem to get.

"Yes," the clone rasped. She shifted her form back to the copy form- the non-generic form, I mean, that I used to call Erin, save for the legs and ashen colored skin, which remained as part of her Styx lineage. "I wish you a good death. Dying in combat, even one such degraded as this one, is a great honor," she continued. "You will be saving our cause, all of our causes, and by dying we may conquer all of Existence!" she rejoiced in a Sontaran battle-victory way.

Then, without any further acknowledgment or warning, she zapped away in a flash of light, leaving behind another glowing white light.

I don't even have enough energy, let alone time, to think about what the remnant light is as I black out, warmth of my blood all over my stomach and flowing around me. It feels so cold, though, without it in my veins to keep me warm and alive. But, I'm defenseless against the blood-loss, the light too, as I o unconscious, and seemingly in moments, I bet, die.

But, not forever. Not completely.

The next thing I know, I feel a sort of… warmth in the air around me, my mind hanging on by only a thread in a seemingly impossible way. Even from behind my closed eyelids, I can see a bright, shining light around me. I don't feel much besides the warmth or see anything besides the light, but then my mind is opened to a whole new world.

I see things that only one can dream about seeing: the future, the past, the present, everything that ever was, and ever could be. I see the whole of time and space, and I know how to use that sight. I can understand it.

I can feel my own future changing, too, becoming stable, as if it was unstable and ripping itself apart before. I have no idea how I knew that, but I did, and I went with my new instincts.

And I could feel my body changing, as if my very DNA was being rewritten, my body's composition slightly- or drastically, there is no way to tell the difference- changing to fit its new needs. And, to complete the change, I feel a pain in my chest. Specifically, a ripping, tearing pain in my heart- my not quite beating heart, I realize at that moment. As the pain comes to a brink, my whole body shudders and courses with renewed energy and life, my heart now feeling like it was split in two.

Then, the two hearts start beating. I open my eyes, and gasp for air, looking around for a moment at the ceiling. It closes into a point at the top, a large number of sides off a room all curving around in a circle-resembling shape. The material is some kind of tinted metal, and I can see some sort of looming figures to the side at the very edge of my vision.

I fall to the ground, knocking the wind out of me, as I hear the sound of two pairs of rushing footsteps, and a man's voice calling out to me. I go unconscious again, the energy flowing through me dissipating throughout my entire body before settling. I still feel tired and weak, even with my likely new body.

That's a strange thought, I think to myself, but I barely have to think about it as all goes black, even the raging vortex of time in the back of my head, feeling like death's embrace, only warmer, and more like that of someone's arms than death's ice cold hands.

I don't dream, but I do feel the presence of another in my mind while I sleep. I don't know how I knew that either, probably the thoughts of whoever or whatever the thoughts belonged to. I'd had my fair share of strange things for a while, it told me, and I deserved rest. So I should rest. And I did just that, drifting even deeper into the black, not even remembering, my mind unable to wander, only things evident being the blackness, and a sense of rage, madness, and the sense of accomplishment left behind by the thoughts of the being from before.

I didn't even have enough capability to remotely wonder what for, but I still ponder that today because of that.

Remaining in the dark for who knows how long, I don't see, hear, know anything. It feels warm, and inviting, and did I say warm? It felt good to rest, as if I hadn't done so in centuries. A strange concept, I would've thought, but then again, I couldn't have thought. I remember my time in the blackness as a blur, a slow transition of fading inky blackness that eventually wore off. I began to awake to the sounds of a mechanical wheeze, or possibly groan. It sounded like pistons and engines, I thought to myself.

Only one thing can make that sound, I also thought. I recognized it from all the times I'd hear it before. Not for real, but at least it sounded the same. That wheezing, cough-like groan, created by the pilot leaving the brakes on because he likes the noise created by them, could only have belonged to a TARDIS. More specifically, the Doctor's TARDIS.

**A/N: Oh, cliffhanger! Burn! Sorry, I couldn't help it. And, as I was getting at before, there is no good way to stop. Seriously, I've already typed up the next chapter, and there's no way I can break it up- despite its 10,000 word count- without changing the overall meaning in several ways. Also, note that the first crossover- the main one, which will again be Tunnels- has already been set in motion, just in this first chapter. Sure, it may seem like this is going to the Deeps [get it? ;) ] for the Tunnels crossover, but this will be turning straight back on track to maintain the overall Doctor Who stuff. There will be planets and science, parallel universes and bisexual immortals, and much, much more as there is in Doctor Who and Torchwood.**

**Also, has anyone here watched the most recent Once Upon a Time episode?! Oh. My. GOD! So EPIC in the end- despite the dramatic sadness! And, seriously, why HOOK?! IF you know what I'm talking about, then good for you. If not, then you should A) catch up on Once Upon a Time, B) watch Once Upon a Time on whatever you want, whether its Netflix or something else, and learn what the heck I'm talking about because you're missing out, C) get out. I'll still be doing the crossover with the realms of Once Upon a Time, just not entirely the way I had it before. It's going to be different than before- no, in fact, EVERYTHING'S different than before. Save for the characters… and a few storyline details, maybe, but not really anything else. A few settings, possibly, but that's it. The old one is basically scrapped for parts and left behind as a reminder of what **_**not**_** to do.**

**Trust me, the next chapter is definitely entirely new. Nothing's the same. I'm skipping the original second chapter because I am keeping to the concept that Junior wrote this in the few milliseconds before his death. You'll learn how he did it so quickly fairly soon. And, no, not even the Doctor's TARDIS can do that. It takes more than a supercomputer to do that- it takes CAL. No, not Will's brother. I mean the supercomputer database that Riversong got sucked into at the biggest library in the universe. Also, note that I am thinking about doing a flashback this part. And that will be at the end of this part, to help spur on the story of the second part before it starts. And, my Silurian OC's will be added… later, likely in part two. I haven't found a good fit for them yet. The characters just have to reunite and everything.**

**And, that is my ONLY spoiler for now. ;)**

**Well, that's the end of my bantering for the next... hour, maybe? XD I'll post again next week, hopefully around Christmas. Think of it as a gift, from me to you. I'll be speeding along through my chapters during break, so stay posted for the next chapter and hopefully a release schedule! Alrighty, then, good-bye, and I wish you all a Merry/Happy Christmas- whichever you prefer. **


	3. Chapter 2: Mirrors of the Soul Kind

**A/N: Okay, since I feel the lecture-block (writer's block for my author's note lectures or just lectures in general) coming on, I'm just cutting to the chapter now.**

**Read and review! Happy New year, too!**

**PS: As a note, I forgot my disclaimer in my previous chapters. Grrrrrrrr… Okay, well, here it is, no matter how late:**

_**Disclaimer: I own nothing of **_**Doctor Who**_**, **_**Tunnels**_**, or any other series, book, TV show, movie, or song I have in this fanfic. **_**Because, frankly, there will be some song-based themes, albeit with my own twist. This **_**is**_** called fanfiction for a reason, right? Also, note that some singing will be involved. Just a warning, I am a complete music lover. So Junior will be too- simple math, or logic, whatever you want to think of it as.**

_**THE EXISTENCE OF OUR WORLDS AND THOUGHTS**_

**Chapter 2: Mirrors of the Soul Kind**

I open my eyes to again stare at the ceiling. Of course, though, this one is different. It's a simple flat ceiling painted- maybe I should say pigmented- off-white color, but it also has eccentric-looking lights like those in the 9th and 10th- really 10th and 11th- Doctors' TARDIS control room. _Strange_, I thought to myself. _But then again, I know there are things far stranger._

_Like me surviving_, I retorted my own thoughts. OF COURSE me surviving is stranger. I was dead, came back to life- without my heart even beating yet- and I can now see the whole of space and time raging through my head. _Things can't get worse, or better, or anything more stranger_, I believed to myself. Honestly, it was just me hoping that this wasn't me being abducted by the Styx or Sontarans or Daleks, and they decided they wanted me alive now. Though, I had yet to know why they wanted me dead in the first place. _Maybe I should find out_, my less-than-better judgment suggested.

Deciding against some of my better judgment- what better judgment do I speak of, actually- I try, and fail, to sit up so I could get a better look around. Bad idea. I _do_ manage to sit up, but when I do I see spots before my eyes and the maddening torrent of time in the back of my head, which had been much quieter before, seemed to increase in metaphorical volume tenfold. I put my hands to my temples, forcing my eyes shut in the process, and concentrate my mind on other things, trying to ignore the unrelenting flow of information in my head as best as possible.

By the time I manage to, there is two sets of footsteps approaching from my left. Then I hear a voice I would never have expected to hear anywhere but on TV.

"Good, you're finally awake," the voice, a man's, said cheerily.

"How can you possibly be _cheery_ after what just happened?" another voice, this one a woman's, asked him in a depressed mood.

"Oh, come on, it wasn't _that_-" the man started saying, but cut himself off. "Okay, it was bad."

"'It was bad'? I thought you were dead down in that pit, I had to kill a man to save the universe, and me and the rest of us almost got sucked into a black hole!" the woman exclaimed.

I turn to look at the pair. Sure enough, it was Rose Tyler and the Doctor. And, oddly, the Doctor was wearing an orange space suit. _What- oh…_ I thought as I figured out what they were talking about. _The Satan Pit… The devil-beast thing… What about anything else that could possibly be worse?_

"Yeah, but," the Doctor defended himself, "you still could've been killed by the Ood or that thing in the pit."

"What, forgotten me already?" I ask them. They abruptly turn to me, and I cross my arms. "Well?"

"Um, sorry about that, we were just, uh…" Rose stammered.

"Discussing a topic better left unsaid," the Doctor finished for her.

"Right," Rose agreed.

"Oh really?" I ask. "Few things are better left unsaid when it comes to anything but the Doctor."

"What's that supposed to mean?" said timelord asks.

"Well, things in your past are better left unsaid, but otherwise few things besides are too," I answer. "Like your actual name, or what you believe in, or why you try to forget your own past- and not for the obvious reasons."

"How could you know all that?" the Doctor asks.

"There's much more than that. Did you know there's a whole franchise based off _Doctor Who _in my world?" I counter. "You already know I'm not supposed to belong here, right?"

"Well, yeah, but- Wait, did you say 'Doctor Who'?" he asks.

"Yes, he did. What I want to know is- what is it?" Rose asks.

"Yes, what is it?"

"And is it called that for the reason I'm thinking of?"

"Could you guys stop with the questions?" I counter again. Both of them stay quiet. "Good. I'll explain what it is- and yes, Rose, it's called that for the reason you're thinking of. Everyone has always asked, 'Doctor Who,' when they met the Doctor, so it makes sense that they would stick it in the title of the series. Yes, it includes you, Rose, and much more than all the companions that follow after you," I explain, a little vaguely, but it keeps them quiet for a moment while they look at each other as if trying to get some sort of explanation out of the other.

"Okay, I can believe that, but… do I look good in it?" Rose asks.

Me and the Doctor look at each other for a minute, then laugh at the same time. "Woman and their appearances," I remark.

"Hey, that's not fair! Have you _seen_ your preppy hair-style yet?!" Rose objects.

I stop laughing while the Doctor keeps chuckling on. "My what?"

"Your preppy hairdo," Rose repeats. "That pointy pompadour on top of your head."

I'm a little taken aback. Then I feel the top of my head, and, sure enough, she's right. It doesn't feel gelled, but it does feel like it comes together in a rather tall point.

"Good god, I'm a human spear," I say.

Rose and I start laughing then, but the Doctor has recovered from his laughter. And, this is where things get a little awkward for me, Rose, and him. "Not quite _completely _human, kid…" he says.

Rose and I stop laughing at the same moment. "Oh, right," Rose agrees. "You said that earlier."

"What?" I ask. I know I shouldn't _completely _be surprised, because 1) how does someone do one's hair while they're asleep, 2) I'm alive- self-explanatory- and 3) I don't have that wound in my gut, I realize. I glance at my shirt, which is still the same one I wore before, just now it was blood-stained and had a rip in it at the abdomen.

"Um, yeah, about that…" Rose trailed off. "Well, you see, ah, you, um…" she tried to explain, utterly failing to find the right words.

"I think we should just show you," the Doctor says. "You'll get why in a moment."

I probably look as confused as I feel, but I agree to do as he says. He offers an arm to help me up, and I take the offer with some gratitude, since the pounding in the back of my head from falling on the floor before was starting to make itself known. I'm able to stand up, blinking spots out of my eyes in the process, and I follow him and Rose to the other side of the room, which I found out to really just be a platform.

I'm in the middle of the TARDIS, coral edition, tall and slender interior and everything else. The walls are just like in the control room, and the platforms don't even remotely reach them. This tall tube of a TARDIS seems to at least some-what keep the undisguised outside in mind in its interior floor plan, but when I peer over the railing at the edge, there is definitely no bottom. The TARDIS probably loops you back up to the top at some point anyway, so why need one? There are bridges that lead to hallways that extend from the central room to who knows where, but I guess them to be more tall rooms, although probably definably tall, like a mile, or twenty feet- just not infinitely looping around type of tall.

"I know, it's a lot to take in when it's not on some show on the BBC channel or whatever," Rose comments. I look at her and nod.

"They only ever showed it down here once, and that was when the Doctor was searching for a new outfit after he regenerated," I tell her. "The writers involve it more in the future, though. Plenty more."

"Well, that's good to hear," the Doctor agreed as he looked at his reflection in a mirror. "You might want to take a look at this."

"What? Look at you flexing your biceps while in a gaudy orange space suit?" I tease, making him stop doing just that and earning a giggle from Rose.

"They're not called biceps for timelords," the Doctor tried to change the subject smoothly. "They're called upper limbduls. They can realign on my bones."

"Good to know," I say as I step in front of the mirror. The Doctor, Rose and I are all surprised by the results- or should I say the nonexistence of results. I have _no reflection_.

"Okay, I didn't expect _that_," the Doctor confesses.

"Wait, I saw his reflection on that puddle of… blood, left behind," Rose says.

"Well, that's… gruesome to think about."

"You mean the blood from a wound in my gut before?" I ask.

"Yes, that's it," Rose confirmed. "What happened to do that, anyway?"

I look away, and stare at the empty space in the mirror. As I look, the Doctor and Rose stare at it as well. Oddly enough, my _shadow _behind me, no matter how dim, has a reflection, but I myself don't- as if light passed right through me. "If you suggested I was a vampire, I probably would take it as the truth right now," I tried to lighten the mood. Nothing from the two others. "Okay, maybe not," I confess. "Just trying to lighten the dark mood."

"I think we all could use that," the Doctor said. Then his face brightened up dramatically. "How's about we go on another trip with the TARDIS set to 'generate-random'?" he asks Rose.

She brightens up. "Sure, but can you set it so there is no chance we go anywhere within a lightminute of any black holes?" she conditioned.

"Oh, definitely," the Doctor replies.

"I understand why," I say. "That beast, down in the pit… freakish brute, it was. No way is it anything but some pre-time monster, but it certainly seemed not to be," I say to the Doctor.

"That was part of the show?" he asks me.

"How could it not be? It was significant to both Rose and you," I remark. "You end up keeping that space suit for the rest of your life, and there's no way it was just yours. You've never worn it before. It still fits you in your next regeneration, you know."

"Oh really?" he asks, looking back at the mirror. "Better treat it well, then. Makes sense to do that anyway. How could I let a good vacuum-protecting suit go to waste, anyway?"

"Well, you could accidentally rip it. Then it would go to waste," I retort smartly. Stopping myself, I catch what's up: I'm a little too… cocky. I wasn't like that before. Also, wasn't I always the shy one around others? That _was_ one of the few reasons why I became friends with Erin: she was shy too.

I shake my head to clear away the thoughts of her. She wasn't _Erin_, she was _Clone de Elliot_. And an evil clone with modified DNA and a good memory wipe. Any clone of Elliot would naturally want to rebel against the Styx- they would've known what they had done to her, her mother, and tried to do to her father and all the other humans. Well, even if they were raised by the Styx their entire lives, if they still had Elliot's memories, then they'd feel compassion for humans.

This clone didn't. So, I figure in no way can she have ever had even a glimmer of the real Elliot's memories. Just as I feel a small verse of victory in the back of my mind, I hear Rose's breath catch and turn sour, like she was in pain. I turn to her, the Doctor doing the same, and she's clutching her head.

"What was that?" she asks, but her voice sounds hoarse and rougher than usual. Actually, just rough, because Rose doesn't normally have a rough voice- it's normally smooth and emotionally static.

"What was what?" I ask.

"I think you might want to know what all happened when you came on board," the Doctor says.

"Sure, Doctor," I reply.

"Sure what? He didn't say anything," Rose remarked, her head pain looking to disappear a little, replaced by some confusion.

"I didn't say anything, but I thought it," the Doctor answered.

And again it dawns on me how much I've changed- now, to add up to the head-spike, time-seeing capabilities, and no reflection anymore, I can add telepathy to that list of differences from now to back home. Of course, I just was shot through time and space somehow into another universe.

"Great, now I have to hear people's thoughts," I heave. "All the dirty secrets, all the chatter, everything."

As if to prove the first point, a rather… intense make-out session plays out from Rose, as I can see Mickey (the idiot) when the black of Rose's closed eyes open up to his face.

"Rose, did you just _seriously_ do that to me," I ask.

"Sorry, but you did the reverse to me," she retorts. "You forced I think your thoughts into my head, thank you very much. I'd rather like to have you hear my thoughts, but I'd much more like it to not have to forcefully hear yours."

"Oh, did I do that?" I say, a bit surprised. "Sorry about that, then."

"Yes, you did, because I heard it too," the Doctor confirms. "Well, I'll tell you this much, since you can't see it yourself. From the glimpses I saw of you before you were whole again- not elaborating on that just yet- you have a relatively different appearance. Your hair's gotten lighter even as you slept, I would say. You're a slight bit taller, I can tell because your shirt seems to be a tad bit too short. Anyway, your hair is also ultra-light, and I have no idea how it could've gotten lighter than it was before, but it has. It's almost blinding to look at, it's so blonde. Not white, but blonde, and reflective. Well, that's all I know is different for sure." He suddenly claps his hands together, startling the other two of us, and looks excitedly at Rose and I. "Now, what were we saying earlier about a trip with the TARDIS on 'generate random'?"

After the Doctor had left to put his new space suit in his clothes vault downstairs, I had a chance to take a quick tour around the main portion of the TARDIS with Rose.

Looking around again, I take the opportunity to further observe the med-ward platform. It was about fifty or so yards wide, and mostly a circular shape. Where the staircase wound through, the platform stopped to give it space, despite it having about ten or so yards more to go before it hit the rounded wall. On the platform itself, there were a few cots with white sheets, not quite military style, maybe more like school-nurse style. There was a central station of cabinets, drawers, and counter space. Peninsulas jutted out, creating several stations for several people to work at. Supplies of every sort- empty hypodermic needles, prodding tools, tongue depressors, and tons more, covered the exposed counters in the main portion of the floating cabinetry. The peninsulas were bare, save for the dirty rag that was probably used to wipe off the blood that had soaked my clothes from anyone's hands or any surface that it got on.

I decided to not think about it unless I had to. Better to just leave the past behind us unless it gave the future better results. My future probably didn't have the best results, but I decided not to tell Rose or the Doctor that.

Her and I went down the first level of stairs to the rather extensive wardrobe area.

"Wow," is all I can say. "That's a lot of clothes."

"I know. The first time I saw it, I thought of all the people it would've taken to leave behind that many pairs of shorts and all that," Rose agreed. "It's huge, had nearly every species acquitted into it, and every size and beyond that's on store racks."

"Awesome." I immediately take my leave of her, and she calls to me to wait, and I stop and turn around.

"I just want to tell you to be as quick as possible. This tour's going to take a while, you know that," she warns me.

"I know. That much is totally obvious," I tell her, turning back around with just enough time to see her go back up the stairs.

"I'll be in the med-ward when you're finished."

I start looking around at the racks, and see some shirts that I would've worn before, but they are all either too small, too big, or I simply don't seem to like them anymore. Weird. I guess being connected to the TARDIS, new appearance and all, was going to take getting used to.

When I was done, I had picked out a standard gray cardigan with a blue tee beneath. I had chosen a pair of worn yet nice-looking dark jeans, making them look like a stark yet complimenting contrast compared to the preppy cardigan, which probably looked cool with the hair.

Strangely, though, whenever I brushed against my right wrist, it always seemed to be sore. It was slightly discolored, probably a bruised bone, I would guess. I _did_ hit the ground hard when I fell from levitating in the air- something I knew I had better find out more about, but maybe later. The Doctor said he was taking the long route to his room, so it was obviously going to take a while to get to it. But that still didn't mean we had too much time.

I hurried back up to Rose in the med-ward, where she nodded at my attire. "Nice look. Good choice of denim jeans," she says. "You seem to have an affinity for blue like the last Doctor had for leather," Rose added, laughing a bit.

"Yeah, I guess," I agreed. At least my favorite color hadn't changed.

"Your shirt matches your eyes, you know," Rose mused, taking a step closer. "You have honestly the strangest colored eyes I have ever seen."

"They used to be brown," I say. "Brown eyes, brown hair, both turned to lighter, brighter, less common colors- especially my eyes, I guess," I think aloud. It was true, since my T-shirt was a very machine-made blue-green that almost seemed pastel at first glance, but it was broken up by the faded-looking coloring that was obviously intentional that so few people had. "Well, we were going to take a quick tour?" I ask Rose, changing the subject back to the one on hand.

"Right," Rose agreed. "Okay, we're just below the control room," she continued, pointing at the ceiling twenty feet above us. It spanned the entire diameter of the room, dipping down a little at the point above the edge of the platform and then turning to become the outer wall. "These stairs span the entire height of the TARDIS," she said, moving on without waiting for any answer or comment. Probably had a lot to show me. The TARDIS _is_ supposed to be more than just a separate dimension. "You can will the stairs- if you can call it that- into letting you go down just the med-ward's flight, then popping out twenty platforms lower without even seeing the rest in between."

"Clever staircase, then," I said.

"Very clever. It's part of the TARDIS," she agrees. Rose walks over to the staircase, and I follow her. "Okay, just know- will yourself, I mean- that you will pop out on the top bedroom level," she instructs.

"I'll try my best," I tell her.

"Good. I bet the TARDIS will let you go easy, though, since she…" Rose trailed off. A moment of silence ensued, then Rose varied the topic slightly to indirectly say what she wanted to explain, probably to avoid having to explain something she didn't completely understand. I got that idea easily, since it came out of her head like radiation. "Ever since I was the Bad Wolf, and the Doctor regenerated, I haven't had to will the TARDIS into working for me. It just…"

"Did what you asked?" I ask her, not knowing where this was going.

"Yeah, that," Rose agrees. "I bet that, since you were, I think… The heart of the TARDIS opened, and a light appeared, and I felt as if I was becoming the Bad Wolf again, but only for a second, when these… glowing yellow particles started swarming around empty space, but fairly soon your body, bloody and I thought lifeless, materialized. We were in flight when it happened, so you can bet how much this place rocked about." I am a little dumbfounded for a second, then she adds, "I was thrown against one of the coral braces, but I was able to hang onto that. The TARDIS was literally flipping end-over-end, kid."

I take the last few words a little more to heart than I probably would have before. Forgetting about what she said about me being just glowing particles that pieced together into a bloody mess, I none too politely rebuke her calling me 'kid'. "I'm not a kid," I tell her. "I'm a sixteen-year old, and I never want to be called 'kid'. I've outgrown it."

"Well, by the looks of it, you look about fourteen-ish, maybe, with some really tall qualities about you," Rose remarked. "So, don't blame me that you look two years younger than you are. Besides, we were all too caught up in the fact that you didn't have a reflection earlier to find out your name."

"Oh, well, if that's the case, you should've just asked," I told her. She stares at me expectantly for a moment. "What?"

"You were going to tell me your name?"

"No, I just said that I could've if you had asked."

"Well, then, can you tell me your name?"

"Yes." Another moment of silence. I was enjoying this a little too much, but my old persona was long gone.

"Aren't you going to tell me it?"

"You asked if I could tell you my name. Not what my name was. Big difference."

Rose got all frustrated at my words. Oh, this was too fun. Then we heard the Doctor, out of his space suit and in his blue suit, chuckling on the staircase blow us. We both look at him. "I'm sorry, that's just too funny," he admits, chuckling a little harder.

"How long have you been standing there?" Rose asked.

"Long enough to know he has a problem with taking questions too literally, or that he just likes toying with people," the Doctor replied.

"The latter," I answer before either of them can ask, earning an elbow jab in my gut from Rose. "Ow, hey," I say. My abdomen flares a little with pain, but luckily no more than a soreness. "That's where I got shot by my psycho ex-girlfriend, you know," I warn her.

"Shot?" Rose asks.

"I hate guns," the Doctor says.

I snort a little. "I think I understand why. How many time have you been shot at over the years?"

"Well, let's see…" the Doctor says thoughtfully. "Terravima, Heratrix, Y'tuggal, Igloo Planet-"

"That was a rhetorical question, Doctor," I interrupt, then stop myself. "Igloo Planet?" I ask. "Seriously?"

"Yeah," the Doctor confirms. "It's a snowball planet, covered in snowy mountains all taller than Mount Everest, and it's inhabited by no one besides employees of the snow-and-ice themed amusement park, which happens to be called 'Igloo City'. The company owner bought the planet and named the planet after the park," he explained.

I nod in understanding. "Cool."

"Now, back the names thing," Rose suggests.

"Oh, about that, he's not supposed to exist here, you know that," the Doctor interrupts before I can say anything. "You saw it in the mirror. I think that the universe isn't able to acknowledge your existence because you aren't part of our reality."

"We already know that I'm from another universe," I say.

"No, not just another universe," the Doctor says. "Okay, so, imagine a bag of marbles- no, two bags of marbles. These marbles are universes, and the bags holding them are realities."

"Wait, there's more than one reality?" Rose asks.

"Yes, of there is," the Doctor says. "It's an old and slightly outdated theory by your time, mostly forgotten and hugely rejected where people know of it, but there is a theory that says that there is more than one single reality that contains universes. The theory states that there is more than two dozen total, at least, and that the realities are separated by a sort of barrier of what you would call artificial energy, but really it's just made by some pre-universe species to hold apart the realities and keep them fro0m collapsing in a femtosecond."

"So, you're saying I'm from another reality, and that this reality doesn't acknowledge my existence, so I didn't have a reflection in the mirror earlier because that means light can't reflect off me and then reflect again without making it a paradox. And, because I'm from another reality, that this reality can't just eliminate me in any 'standard' way, like opening up a crack in reality," I add.

"Pretty much," the Doctor confirms. "Mind reader."

"Oh, you're one to talk, eavesdropper," I retort.

"Ugh, boys," Rose interjects before anything can get too far. "Can you just explain why the reality thing means he can't tell us his name?"

"Yes," I say.

"Oh, don't you dare go down that road again," Rose commands in a 'heel boy' attitude she usually reserves for the Doctor- the one that's less commanding than Amy's or Clara's, but still commanding none the less.

"Fine," I submit to her reign, but not before catching a glimpse of her full name, which is add as a bonus at the end, "Rose Elva Tyler."

If ever before have I seen anyone get more angry, in that feisty, demeaning, and almost Jackie Tyler-like like way besides Jackie Tyler herself. "Never. Call. Me that. EVER. Again," Rose commanded.

"Okay, how's about we choose a name for you instead of just calling you nameless words instead?" the Doctor suggested before Rose's rage got too withheld.

"Good plan," I say. I think for only a split second before figuring out what I should actually be doing. Focusing my inner thoughts on the time vortex raging through my mind, I focus on the bits and pieces that involve my timeline, then pull it up out of the rest and piece together a couple things: 1) never try to do that, it is filled with spoiler details about your life and future, 2) there will be pieces missing none the less, and 3) there is always a cost to what you can possibly know by gleaming what you can from the timelines. Of course, that cost is always the dreaded fixed point, I know that. But, in order to find my new- albeit false- identity, I had to scan through a lot of my timeline. Most of it is now fixed because of that.

Including the tiniest piece I had somehow managed to view: my death. Of course it should never be rewritten, I'm partly connected to the TARDIS, but there were other bits that I somehow saw on the route to my name: my age, some sort of breaks in my time stream, why the breaks occurred, and, most of all, what I am- not who, but what.

But, as that information all finished flowing, I closed off the time vortex as best as possible. Then I heard a slight groan from Rose. I turn to look at her. "Ugh, TIME," she grunted.

_Not again_, I think to myself. I did _not_ just tell them of my timeline through my telepathy. But, as if to reassure me, the Doctor says, "Don't worry, you didn't… give away any details about yourself, besides what you looked like and some random pictures of us in the TARDIS and on a couple different planets."

"Oh, good," I say. I didn't want to tell them much more than I had to. Like what those sights actually meant. More than just my name, of course.

"So, since you did that, can you tell us what you found out," the Doctor asked.

"Sure," I tell him, smiling on the inside. His face grows serious and all 'are you seriously doing this _now_'.

"Tell us what you found out," Rose commanded for him, getting angry again. I think my timelord rage might have rubbed off on her, I think to myself.

"Whoa, I never thought I could think that and it be true," I mutter to myself. With a slightly confused and 'hurry up' look from the Doctor and Rose, respectively, and I decide to go with the little bit of better judgment I might have gained from the experience I had just had. "Alright fine. I call myself Junior, and I am connected to the TARDIS, but more than you might expect. When the TARDIS brought me through to your world, instead of letting me get torn apart in the Void, she saw all the things that I was going to do, and why it was important that I do them. I now know about them, too."

The Doctor nodded in understanding. "Anything else," he asks, then adds, "Junior?"

I smile a bit. No wonder I chose the name. Not because I saw it in the time vortex, but because it fits the promise I made myself, years ago at home, and it sounded so much like the Doctor's. There's a second part to the name, but I'd rather not say it. Of course, the Doctor might object. My being the Junior Doctor would be too much of a paradox if said aloud, anyway. Well, of course, seeing as I could name myself after the Doctor in _Doctor Who_, then it isn't exactly a paradox.

"Yes, there is." I take a deep breath for this next part, mostly because it's a little hard to explain without him thinking that my head will explode someday. Of course, it won't. "I became a Y-branched metakrisis with timelord DNA remnants in the TARDIS software and a tiny bit of excess DNA from the TARDIS that she can replicate next time she has to repair herself."

"You what?" the Doctor asks, shocked and in disbelief.

"What's a Y-branch metakrisis?" Rose asks.

"It's where one person who's dead has their DNA spliced and mostly replaced to bring them back. Never before has it been attempted to metakrisis anyone with a TARDIS. Rose, you weren't even metakrisis with the TARDIS when you were the Bad Wolf," the Doctor explains. "So, how did you not die- again, I might add- when you came back to life?"

"Because I only got a small portion of TARDIS DNA, and all of it was parental remnants that she got from her parent when she was grown. Essentially, it was like I was remade out of TARDIS fragments, same process as the original thing," I answer boldly.

The Doctor is taken aback. "Um, then how do you seem to remember life before you came to this world? Wouldn't you have been turned into quantum foam in the process?"

"That's why it worked, though," I explain. "The quantum foam in my world was sentient- which is the difference between my reality and yours. I know because I saw it," I say excitedly. "I can finally say that I have figured out the concepts of my universe, as well as the concepts behind yours."

"You mean the Creation Code?" the Doctor asks.

"Only for your universe. Mine is isomorphic, meaning only certain people- people untainted by other worlds, namely- can use it. And, the same goes for your world. Sadly, it also doesn't translate through data cores, so the TARDIS and any other computer memory system can help you know it if you honestly wanted it for your world," I answer.

"Wait, so everyone in your world is basically a superhero god or demigod or something?" Rose asks.

"No, that'd be way to easy," I say. "If the people had the code, they could use it, I mean. They don't have it, though, since anyone who's ever discovered it- if there ever has been- have all died and the code with them. Of course, the code has to be finished for a specific moment in time, then used to find the next, and the next and the next, since it constantly changes. The Creation Code is only the creative part of the God Code, which entitles the ability to maintain the Creation Code without calculating it indefinitely."

"Well, that's an earful," Rose remarks.

"Quite an earful," the Doctor agrees. Then, he decides to get back to the metakrisis thing. "But you can't be metakrisis with the TARDIS and timelords passed without being part of our universe now, which should mean you should still have a reflection."

"I can be if the TARDIS initiates a time-reserve in the capsule to protect her passengers in need of urgent care or time to heal that don't have that much time left if they experience aging," I counter.

"Oh, clever, clever, clever you- no, clever TARDIS!" the Doctor exclaims.

"Hold on a minute, almost everything you said contradicts itself," Rose comments. "The way it was told, doesn't that make it a paradox to accomplish?"

"Rose, you've seen the TARDIS. Heck, you're in it! You as well as I do that doesn't work on an already paradoxical, bigger-on-the-inside, living time machine from Gallifrey," I rebuke.

She turns silent for a moment, then says to me, "Touché."

"Well, now that we have had more than an earful," I change the subject, eager to avoid further details- like the ones the TARDIS saw and that I saw when reading my possible timelines- and let them be worrying about not only me, and the situations I might end up in, but also the situations I'll end up dragging them into. "And I know I've had a rough anniversary I'm sure I'm never going to forget, whether or not intentionally. And, no, I won't elaborate on that- not just yet," I add when I see Rose start to question what I meant.

"Was it where you got shot?" she asked none the less.

"I am willing to admit that, yes, it is when I got shot. And, frankly, left for dead in front of a tear in the fabric of reality," I confirm.

"Oh, that is rough," Rose agrees with my earlier statement, all bitter feelings from before apparently forgotten. "You don't have to talk about it for as long as you like," she continued. "I can see that that was obviously a break up you don't want to ever bring up."

"Well, the details behind why you were sent through a tear in reality would be good to know. Also, psycho girlfriend you said earlier, am I right?" the Doctor asks.

I sigh. "Yes, I said psycho _ex_-girlfriend," I tell him, emphasizing the 'ex' term.

"Oh, right, ex-girlfriend," the Doctor corrects himself. A moment of awkward silence ensues. I made it obvious I don't want to continue talking about it much, and there really isn't much else to talk about anyway. So, I do the only thing that makes sense: suggest the reprieve that was already set up.

"Well, I could use a reprieve to travel after all that recollection of unfriendly details," I say after a moment. The other two nod.

"And I think I have the perfect place," the Doctor says. "No random selection necessary."

"Why not?" Rose asks. "Isn't it always more fun that way?"

"Well, it is if you don't have the perfect vacation paradise in mind for the standard trip," the Doctor says. "But, we'll have to refuel afterward. All that space ship-pulling probably almost drained the graviton reserves."

"I thought you only needed rift energy to power the TARDIS?" Rose asks.

"Rose, rift energy is just a term for stray collectable particles that you can't easily pick up without either destroying a planet, altering the gravity of a planet, or draining the power of two hundred Earths' worth of Nuclear Power stations on maximum for two centuries," I explain. "We need gravitons in order to feel gravity."

"Okay, I think I get it," Rose says, staring off into the distance as if the gravity might shut off and the three of us be thrown around the ship like ragdolls for the rest of our then would-be short lives.

_Jeez, I watch too much _Torchwood_, _Mythbusters_, and _Doctor Who, I think to myself. _I only know what I know from them, and science channels on YouTube._

"Well, are we going to go to this surprise paradise or what?" I ask.

"Since when did I say it was a surprise?" the Doctor asks me cunningly.

"You didn't describe the 'sheer, raw beauty', or the swaying mountains, freezing waves, sapphire waterfalls, x-tonic sunlight, or anything outrageous like that, and you didn't even name the place," I answer. "So, am I right?"

He smiles with pride at me. "You know me too well."

"Well, I've watched every second series _Doctor Who _episode at least once," I say to him.

"Just the second series?" Rose asks.

"Oh, I never got into the first. Despite there being nineteen seasons on Netflix, I know that there was a lot of stuff neglected that is all somewhere else online for the original series, but the graphics and stuff are all old and from the sixties to eighties, early nineties at the latest, but the series cut off at around eighty-five," I explain. "There's still tons of stuff in the seven seasons of the second series, though, I will tell you that."

"Well, you better not explain much besides how many times have I regenerated so far?" the Doctor asks me, causing me to grin and chuckle a bit.

"Two from the ninth Doctor, which is one more than you have, and it's soon to be three- your last regeneration, I might add, if things go as everyone expects. You not killing others to save yourself, I mean, like the Master did." I shiver a little the thought of the pictures I've seen of him in his ghastly zombie form. "That's part of the promise you made when you chose your name, right?"

"Yes, it is," the Doctor confirmed. "Well, enough about this, I want to get us the surprise paradise as soon as possible!" he says, shooing me and Rose up the stairs. She and I glance at each other, sharing a knowing look the Doctor either neglected to acknowledge or just didn't notice, and we shared a small smile with laughter contained on the inside. Gosh, he could be annoying sometimes, but it was a fun, good annoying that made him unlike any human adult anyone would ever meet. He's clever and cunning like the wisest wise-crack, seen nine centuries plus of planets, timelines, and places in general, and had dozens of friends along the way.

He still has many of them, too. And, take me for example; he keeps making new ones every day. And, frankly, they keep getting _younger_. I'm just a cap on it, aren't I? I'm only sixteen, and I've already committed myself to paradox-hood in the TARDIS- albeit not of my own will or knowledge until now, for the most part, but I'm still grateful for it none the less. I've made myself an earth-shattering event, managed to define the meaning of nonexistence in a universe, and how to detect it: you don't have a reflection. I guess if I ever travel the realities besides home and here, I'll be reflection-less until I somehow make myself a part of it.

I dash away the thoughts as we all reach the top of the stairs, and walk down the short hallway to the control room. "Wow, no wonder everyone is so freaked out. It's not just bigger on the inside, just the control room is massive," I awe. It's obvious why to the other two: the Doctor's seen it all the time, and Rose has seen it herself, albeit in the case of being chased by living plastic and in a complete adrenaline rush.

I smile at the thought of Rose frightened out of her mind now that she's been here for, oh, say, one, two years? I'm not sure. But, either way, she's been here more than long enough to know about all the crazy things- besides me, despite all the things already explained- that go down here. They range from the Bad Wolf to wandering girls and guys to a paradox created by a guy flipping a few switches, switching around some cables, the Doctor creating paradox-resistant space, and two versions of the same person thinking and dancing along to the Macarena in memory of her first kiss. Also, same day, the same guy staring at a nude female statue, the Doctor watching the same thing through video glasses, then him snapping himself and then the guy out of it with "eyes front soldier". I laughed at the thought a little.

"What's so funny?" the Doctor asks.

"Oh, nothing, it's just… all the crazy, funny, kooky, down-right odd things that go down with you and your companions," I say.

"Everything with him is at least one of those things, if not most or all of them, Junior," Rose says. "There's no way I'd have it any other way, too."

"Oh, shucks," the Doctor mutters. "You know that it couldn't be any other way either, right?"

"You know what I say?" I tell him. "I say to hell with 'normal'. If there was any such thing, you would be on the other side of this universe, avoiding it with all your companions."

"No other way about it," the Doctor cheerily agrees, setting to work on the controls. Strangely, I feel a compelling sense to tell him what I immediately know is wrong when he starts up the engines, which groan and heave under the stress of the brakes.

"You leave the brakes on," I tell him. "You're only making for a bumpier ride, and probably draining the fuel faster that way, too."

"Well, I like the noise, and, no, the fuel doesn't go away any faster than it would otherwise. Well, there is a tiny difference, but not enough to equal any significant change in performance or stamina," the Doctor rebukes. "You could still help, though, if you honestly know so much about the TARDIS."

"Sure thing," I say, letting my instincts take over an flying over the control panel as fast as the Doctor usually is.

With the two of us, me easing up on the brakes but still leaving them on to give us the best chance at breaking the time-barrier that we were apparently headed straight for. I didn't even actually take into account the details of everything that I had done, probably doing far better than the Doctor, since he threw the manual in a supernova because he disagreed with it. He probably had good reason to do it, besides disagreeing with it, but still just as likely he did not.

We arrived within two minutes, and landed perfectly, for once, not making as loud of a _bang_-like docking noise as usual.

"Smoother ride: check. Fuel saved: no clue, but probably a tiny amount. Time saved: tons," I say as I step back from the controls.

"You acted like the Doctor did when he first took me on a trip," Rose remarked. "Perky, excited, acting as if trying to impress someone…"

I'm a little taken aback. "I think I just went into my version of auto-pilot, so the TARDIS probably was trying to prove to the Doctor that letting up on the brakes is a good idea. I allows for time to not be experienced like syrup while it flies by outside," I retort, glancing a little accusingly at the Doctor.

"Alright, fine, I'll let up on the brakes from now on, but only so much. That noise tells me how much the engines are cycling and how much I need to correct it," the Doctor says. "One wrong pulse, and we're all toast."

"We know that, but you try listening directly to the TARDIS for a change."

The Doctor's short for words. Sure, he listened on the occasion that she spoke to him, but that was rare, and the TARDIS, while she had chosen him- in the odd sense that's barely possible otherwise- still didn't always tell him everything. He was, of course, her third owner- the first being her original crew, the second being a collector on Gallifrey that died and left her to be scrapped by the government, and or course the third being the Doctor.

"Whatever, I'm not going to wait all day while you two argue about engines and fuel saving methods," Rose says, walking over to the door, then turns around to look at us. "Are you coming or not?"

"Oh, right," the Doctor says.

I snap out of my thoughts, and follow the Doctor out the door, Rose exiting out the door before either of us could even get three feet. I close the doors behind us, and I'm greeted with warm, bright sunshine and the sound of roaring waves.

"Whoa," Rose awed. 'Whoa' was right. The beach before us was pristine and sandy white, no trash or foot-irritating pebbles in sight. The sea was a good twenty yards away, but there were absolutely no people there.

In the distance, we all watched as a dolphin leaped out of the sea, slid back in, leapt out again, slid in again, followed by the rest of its pod.

"It's beautiful," Rose says. "What a paradise, Doctor. Good choice- way better than the 'generate random' function."

"And, the best part is: no one but us will be here, despite the fact that there's a resort here as well," the Doctor says. "This island paradise has been abandoned for years because someone was found dead, poison in their wine and ex-lover satisfied enough to confess. Needless to say, he was held accountable."

"Wow, what a story. But, why would people just up and leave if a killer confessed to his hateful crime?" Rose asked.

"Well, this planet has only one land mass about water: this island. It has no tectonic plates because the rest of the land mass is only about two kilometers in diameter, so it only experiences minor sea-quakes at the most from the tremors that ripple the water constantly," the Doctor explained. "So, if there's a killer, you don't have police to go to, and the only way on or off the island came and went every week. Once the news got out that their tight security let one of their staff members kill a guest- and I mean eagle-eye security that has to be bribed into letting you commit crime or you will be exposed kind of security."

"Okay, yikes, that's bad," I agree.

"No kidding." Rose looks out at the water again. "Wait, those are dolphins, right?"

"Yes. The sea life here is all imported from Earth, the first ones as embryos decades before the resort opened. It took twelve years to construct, this hidden gem has so few materials and needs supplies constantly to keep up. It was only open three weeks, the first week with guests, the second week restocking on supplies, the third week the one when the woman was found dead in her room. Sadly, she was also Cassandra O'Brian. She was brought back to life by becoming flat."

"Oh, the trampoline? You made us feel bad for the living trampoline that possessed Rose and you, and made you act like the most perverted bisexual I have ever seen," I rebuked.

"I agree with Junior. You made me feel emotional over the woman who tried to steal my life?" Rose asks. She turns to me then. "Really, do you think she was that perverted?"

"Yes," I answer flatly. "She was squeezing your butt cheeks together in thoughtfulness of plastic surgery in the future, and you saw how she acted all ew-y in the Doctor's body."

"Oh my."

"Well, she did willingly let herself die in the end, giving her the last satisfaction of ever being called beautiful," the Doctor commented.

"True, but she did try to kill all the people on Platform 1. Cassandra did manage to kill several people, too, with those sabotage-bots she used," I add.

"…You make a good point," the Doctor says.

"Well, deaths and stuff aside, what are doing standing here? Didn't we come here for some fun?" Rose changes the subject to a more upbeat one, which I am grateful for.

"Yeah, Doctor. What all is at the resort?" I ask him.

"Look behind you and you'll understand," the Doctor says. Rose and I turn and see a massive, towering metal building, obviously worn and aged, but not too much. It looked very structurally sound, safe to go in, and most of all: absolutely inviting- no, heck no, scratch that out with a dull razor knife, because it was enticing.

The windows were all non-reflective, meaning that, while you couldn't see inside, you still didn't get blinded by the sun when you looked at them. The metal outside looked like some very random yet obviously precisely coordinated, as it was put together in artistic sheets, with giant rivets, small rivets, and architectural welds. All, of course, to make an obvious statement: art is home. It was actually written out, probably in some alien language, but it could be read in scrawled-out English.

"Now that," Rose mused, "is pretty."

"Agreed," I say.

"You two act like you've never seen a hotel before, let alone a resort," the Doctor commented, starting the trek- rather long one- up to the abandoned resort.

The resort was easily, very easily, a quarter of a mile away. But, there was a rather nifty flight of stairs that seemed to flow and shift to the sandy ground below. The rough-hewn stone was obviously unoriginal, but also obviously craved and sculpted. Just the walkway made a statement- actually several, all tiled into the mosaic center stripe of the walkway that twisted and turned like the slides of an intricate music video.

And, at a certain point, the walkway peaked, and then was replaced by the most fun-looking water slide system I had ever seen, complete with powerful turns, sideways tubing, and probably the longest distance any water slide I had ever seen cover with all those twists and turns, making it at least two and a half if not three times as long.

The Doctor stopped at the start of the path, then turned around really quick. "I almost forgot about the slide part," he explained, smiling like some goofy kid would. "At least people can go on it without getting wet. Oh, liquid jello is incredible."

"Wait, did you say liquid jello?" I ask.

"Yes, but it's not edible. It's got chlorine and chemicals in it anyway, so it isn't exactly the best idea. It is, however, unable to stain clothes or even soak them, since liquid jello is mostly made of semi-solids that are all hydrophobic and don't mix well into or with other materials, even other liquids," the Doctor explains.

"Okay, that is even cooler," I say.

"You are so American," Rose mused.

"You've met Jack Harkness, I'm sure you know not to be stereotypical about people from the Doctor, and I've lost you, haven't I?" I ask her when she just continues to nod and go, "Hm, yeah."

"Hm, yeah," Rose says, nodding. "I know not to judge, but you are obviously American. No doubt, Junior. Besides, who cares, really? We're in a completely different time, on a new planet, and we have time-"

"To just go nuts," I finish for her.

"Absolutely," the Doctor agrees. "Now, how's about we power up the place, huh?"

"Sure thing!" I say. "How do we do that?"

"Like this," the Doctor says, holding up his sonic screwdriver, turning it on for a few minutes, and the ensuing noises of the waterslide and the obviously generated waves- there was no tide before, but there was now- from the background.

"Well, that was overly easy," I remark.

"It's still better that way, though," the Doctor says. "Or did you want to take the half-kilometer walk up to the hotel?"

"Are you not insane?!" I exclaim. "Heck to the no!" I shout, running to the slide. I quickly hear the other two following.

Rose passes me by. "Last one there's a rotten companion- or Doctor!" she says, laughing a bit.

"No comment," the Doctor says. "Did you really have to get her riled up like that?" he asks me from a few yards behind.

"Sorry, couldn't help it!" I shout back, picking up my pace. I start to gain a little on Rose, but we're still almost to the slide entrance.

_Oh, I wish I could fly!_ I think to myself. When I thought that, though, like I had done so by command, I started speeding by faster, passing by Rose, who had been a good fifteen feet ahead of me and the Doctor, the latter of which was obviously trying to lose to give his companion a chance. I sped by Rose, and just barely slowed down enough to launch myself down the waterslide when I reached it seconds later.

"Hey!" I just barely heard Rose shout in the background.

"Sorry!" I short back, the tube-shaped slide probably amplifying the noise and distorting it in all sorts of weird forms. My hunch is confirmed when I hear Rose go "Wha-hoo-hoo!" as she launched herself down the slide, followed about eight seconds later by the Doctor saying, "I'm getting too old for this!" in some oddly regretful and cheery all in one mood, like he was totally joking, but failing at making it look like he didn't enjoy it. Of course he would: every twist and turn brought you new views through the clear tube of the slide- some kind of Plexiglas of something, but I didn't think about it much for the entire thrilling two-minute ride that seemed to slow down a lot as my adrenaline skyrocketed.

From behind, shouts of delight came from both others, Rose obviously more verbal, shouting things like, "I haven't done this in years!", "This is SO FUN!", and "BEST. VACATION. SPOT. EVER!" Meanwhile, the Doctor was yelling meaningless sounds that show his truly childish gooey inside. I think it might just be some kind of pink gooey mud-pie, with all the hype and stuff. I still have no clue, though, but it still sounds realistic.

I banish the thought as I get to the "splash-down" zone, which is after the point at which the slide branches off three ways and for every route you take, three times each. Nine total slides were pouring out liquid in the central drop area. Yes, DROP. This slide ended in a five-foot drop slide, the goopy liquid cascading down the walls the slides came out of like an ordinary waterfall. The decagon-shaped area was stone, save for the one wall without a slide. Each slide had its own all and little drop zone.

I fell first, or course, on the second to the right slide from the opening of the decagon. Quickly following, I had just come up when I saw Rose fall and splash down, the goop parting ways without much splash at all, just a rolling wave. Before she hit the water, the Doctor came shooting out of the center slide, next to Rose, but flew through the air unlike Rose and I, who had both been on shorter drops. His was a nine-foot drop, so he plenty of room to fly forward, and nearly land in my face, unless I hadn't been the short distance to the right. The rolling waves created were huge, though, as the Doctor was obviously on the crazy-awesome fun one that goes the fastest. No wonder he was so ecstatic when I hear him yelling in the slides.

He comes up for air, and we all look at how dry we all are. You couldn't have told a difference, save for the odd liquid drop in our hair or something. At that moment, we could tell the vacation plan was awesome.

Sadly, the fun was about to be ruined. You want to know by whom?

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?" a techy voice said.

"I think we have some intruders, 461," another voice, humanoid and male-like. "Just as the masters predicted."

"Oh, and I think you're both going to love this, boys," a nasal-toned voice mused, again male. "Those three are the Doctor, Rose Tyler, and the Junior Doctor."

Rose, the Doctor, and I all turn to see the three newcomers, standing at the exit to the splash-zone. They're a Dalek, Sontaran, and a Limiter- a Styx officer.

"The Junior what?" the Doctor says.

"THE DOCTOR!" exclaims the Dalek. "EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE!"

Another two Daleks fly overhead. "THE DOCTOR'S TARDIS HAS BEEN LOCATED! WE HAVE FOUND THE DOCTOR AND HIS COMPANIONS! EXTERMINATE THE DOCTOR! EXTERMINATE ROSE TYLER! EXTERMINATE THE JUNIOR DOCTOR! EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE!" they chanted as a pair.

Things could not get any worse. Or so I thought.

"No, halt," a familiar voice said over the speakers. It was feminine, smooth like mud, and cracked at the end. Some odd nasal-toned clicks and garbles emanated in the background, then the sound of creaking flesh and bones ensued over the speakers. When the voice resumed speaking, it was deeper, hoarse, and slightly restricted, as if blocked by something. "I want the Junior Doctor alive. We have use of him yet. You may kill the others. That is all!"

"You're not out of trouble, though. You still killed my masters and-" the Sontaran began, but I cut him off.

"Again, you're not helping the cause by telling me. I could've still avoided it, you know," I say, swimming the tiniest bit over to the side. I was trying to get to the valve on the side wall. I didn't know what it did, but my new- TARDIS-induced, no doubt- instincts were telling me to twist it twice to the left. And I trusted them to be so specific. I crept over towards it for a minute, then made a mad race towards it, ducking underwater- under-liquid jello, maybe- for some cover against the Daleks and Sontarans.

Of course, it didn't help. I still could hear everything loud and clear said above me, so I doubted that bullets made of charged particles would be stopped by it. And, just to prove me ever so correct, firepower rained past me in waves: Daleks, then the Styx and Sontaran; Daleks, Styx and Sontaran. I could tell by the noises they made.

Meanwhile, I reached the wall, quickly surfaced, turned the valve twice to the left, and all hell broke loose. Of course, I was still going up.

Wait, what?!

I realize a little too late that I'm actually flying, but luckily I have the pool to splash down in, right? Wrong. The valve was to activate the drain. The drain, of course, didn't suck up people, but there was a safety alcove in the case someone was in the pool and it need to be drained immediately. The liquid drained really quickly, and I hit the bottom of the twenty-foot deep pool merely six seconds after turning the valve.

"RUN!" I hear the Doctor shouting at me and Rose as we dash through the remaining water, into the secluded alcove that was probably designed so someone didn't have to go grab a ladder to rescue the people in the pool, because it had an attached hallway that opened up the moment the last of the liquid drained out with a loud _slurp_ sound.

The three of us ran down the hall, pausing for the shortest moment for the Doctor to close the door before we continued running down the unused hallway.

We could hear the doors opening again behind us, though, a minute later, several Daleks, Sontarans, and Limiters all chasing us through it.

There are several doorways off to the side, and it could be easy to check them to see if we could hide in one. As one approaches, I stop, open in since it's unlocked, and the three of us hurry into the dark room. We wait to even move until the guards have all passed by, plus several extra minutes just in case.

"Okay, I think they're gone," the Doctor sighs. He decided to turn to me now, something I had been expecting for several minutes. "Why did you call yourself the Junior Doctor?"

"Because I myself made my own promise to never hurt nor harm those closest to me, never break their hearts, nor let them be alone in a moment of need. That's why I chose it: so that I represent that part you've always had, just never acknowledged," I explain.

I can bet he smiles at me in that moment. "Well, can you just turn on the lights? The door doesn't have any windows on it, and I want to know what is in the room," Rose ordered.

"Ay-yay, ma'am," I say, locating the switch on my side of the door quickly. I flip it, and we're met by a rather glum sight. "Oh my god," I mutter.

"Do you know who they are?" the Doctor asks me. I nod.

"Will and the original Elliot," I explain. Sure as heck, the two are both in cryosleep, their capsules labeled with their full names and basic description, as if they were some science project. Of course, judging from the rest of the room, they were.

The room was filled with monitoring equipment, each measuring a certain aspect of life. Most of them were complicated medical devices that all read that the two were dead. A few were some sort of brainwave measuring devices, or they simply measured the livelihood of the subjects. Needless to say, the latter results proved all the medical devices wrong.

"They're out of the inner world," I mused. "But they were trapped, by nuclear bombs, even."

"Trapped? How?" Rose asked.

"Like I said: Nuclear bombs. They sealed off the exits to an inner world in the center of the Earth, and trapped themselves inside," I answered. "But, they can't be here. Like I said, they were sealed off by nuclear bombs, so I don't think they were dug out very easily."

As if in some twisted response to my question, one of the equipment pieces apparently measuring Will's heart rate, blipped once, then again ten seconds later, then nine, eight, six, then four. The same sort of thing was starting to happen on Elliot's side. Inside the capsules, the liquid- some sort of liquid nitrogen or something- started to bubble and boil, starting to evaporate, leaving the two alive and unharmed where it boiled away.

"They're waking up," I say, unnecessarily. "Now we'll have something, I guess, against the Styx, at least." Then I think for a moment. "I guess it's time to meet the original girl my ex-girlfriend is a clone of and her likely best friend."

"Your ex-girlfriend…. The girl talking over the speakers before?" Rose asked.

"No, that wasn't Erin- that's what she called herself in my world. But I think I know who it was for real," I reply. "The second Rebecca twin."

As if on cue, that is when Will decided to wake up completely, with a sharp breath in. "Oh my god, Junior!" he exclaimed joyously.

**A/N: Cliffhanger! Burn! Not really. I hate having to do that, but it makes this all the more dramatic. Yeah, I write all too dramatic stuff. So what, this is the drama genre, anyway, so yeah. I'm not used to writing this dramatic kind of stuff. Yes, everything will someday be explained. Hence **_**someday**_**. Well, I think I'm going to skip the bantering here as well, because I am tired. It's past 1 AM right now, so, yeah…**

**Good night. Read and review. Reviews are appreciated greatly! The release schedule might be a tad bit delayed due to a minor creativity block in my mind, but I will hopefully break through it as soon as possible. Expect a release schedule within hopefully the next three chapters somewhere. I hope I can get an epic and complete cliffhanger finale- that's my kind of dramatic. It'll be epic, and awesome, don't worry. Alright, that's all for now, everyone!**


	4. Chapter 3: New Faces to Aid in Escape

**A/N: So, yeah, cliffhanger last chapter. Guess what, though: the first flash back is set to be on that, and remember what I said about that starting up next part?**

**I lied. The first flash back ought to be from the first part, right? Why wouldn't it be? Of course, it'll have to be chock full of spoilers. So, that's why the first flash back **_**will**_** be in this part, but later on. It'll get well-integrated later on. Hopefully, that is. And, that flash back should be an omniscient three-chapter thing, with the flash back starting up at the end of the first chapter of the three, then the second in two parts- first half is flash back, the second half in the present leading up to the events in the flashback of the third chapter. At least, that's what I'm planning on at this point in my writing. Remember, this is, for me at least, only December 15****th****. So, yeah. Whatever.**

**Okay, I'm cutting to the chapter now, alright? Oh, and, if you're looking for a disclaimer, see the previous chapters. They should no longer be an issue, right? Alright, story time!**

_**THE EXISTENCE OF OUR WORLDS AND THOUGHTS**_

**Chapter 3: New Faces to Aid in Escape**

"Oh my god, Junior!" Will exclaimed. He struggled against the straps holding him, but to no use, seeing as his cries on anguish and defeat were rather loud and clearly showed frustration.

"How do you know him?" Rose asked me. "He seems to know you," she added, staring at me questioningly.

"Hey, I only just woke up after- actually, how long _was_ I asleep on the TARDIS?" I asked her, glancing over at the Doctor.

"I can answer that," Will replied instead. "A week and almost six days," he answered.

My jaw dropped. "How can someone sleep that long?" I gawked. "Let alone me," I added.

"You forget, you had to go through a biological metakrisis, be brought back from the dead, and did I mention the metakrisis was with _two_ additive species, not just one?" the Doctor answered.

Before I could respond, Elliot without warning groaned just loud enough to be heard, raising her drooped head to look around. Her eyes seemed to wonder only for a second before spotting me. "Junior, if you're just gonna stand around there, what sort of helpful person are you supposed to be?" she asked, and then smiled the tiniest bit for just a second, then resumed her usual straight face.

"Um, I don't know how to answer that," I replied. "I have yet to find out myself," I added quickly before rushing over to what I was sure by my instincts were the controls. I was pushed to flip three consecutive switches, type in a password- which was actually a short paragraph in Latin on the topic of 'unusually immense emergency… concerning dire circumstances… with the new species who refer to themselves as the "Styx".' After I pressed ENTER, the capsules holding both Will and Elliot opened, and the two breathed a sigh of relief. As I started to step away, I spot a small pocket knife on an overturned plastic storage basket. Going with my middle of the range conscious, I decide to grab it to use it.

"Good job," Will said before coughing a little. "Ah, sorry, used to breathing I think purer air. Happened when I came up to the surface from the inner world, actually," he explained.

"Makes sense that would happen, seeing as the inner world only had New Germania to pollute it for the most part," I added. "Also, I can't forget all the plant life, despite it being continuously mowed down by extremely powerful rainfall."

"What's New Germania? Never heard of it before, but it obviously sounds like the name of a country," the Doctor thought aloud. "And, I want to ask, what's this 'inner world' you're talking about?"

"New Germania was founded as a World War II bunker, of sorts, in the case of an evacuation of German territory," Will explained.

"And, because the war was won before Germany could dig out New Germania after the entrance collapsed, New Germania remained buried for nearly half a century before people ever saw it again- and by people, I mean us," Elliot explained, pointing at herself, Will, and I.

"Hey, I'm not involved in this. All I know is stuff from the book series you're in- which I'm pretty sure didn't end in you two getting captured by the Styx and put into cryosleep imprisonment," I countered.

"Well, you certainly know a thing or two about us either way," Elliot remarked.

"It's still different than actually knowing you," I countered. "If I haven't met you yet, but you've met me, then that means my future is your past," I explained. "We haven't met yet before now, so you should probably avoid talking about all the stuff we did down in the inner world, if that is where we were when I was there- which I don't want to know the answer to, by the way," I added as Will took a quick breath in to say something, which I did so he wouldn't start saying it. I face the Doctor and tell him, "Go unbuckle Elliot; I'll get Will," and he runs up to Elliot to do just that. Without turning towards her, I then tell Rose, "Rose, can you keep an ear focused on the door? Letting these two out might've alerted the entire island where we are, and we need to know if they're on our tail."

"On it," she replies, and takes the step back and turns to the side to get a better angle to hear at.

I walk up to Will just as the Doctor is working on unscrewing Elliot's second of three straps holding her in place. I get to him, climb up to the ledge on the inside of the tank, and forcefully just start tearing at the straps with the hunting knife. Hearing the Doctor grunting rather loudly and obnoxiously, I turn to him for a moment.

"Ugh, why do these have to be screwed so tightly?" the Doctor grunts aggravated after the third attempt to unscrew them fails, however the fourth try yields more luck. "Yes!" he exclaims as he offers to help down Elliot, but she doesn't even acknowledge his offer when she merely drops down and lands perfectly on the floor.

"Junior, focus," Will instructed, snapping me back into quick action. I saw through one strap, mostly rip through another, and then Will slips out the last one around his knees. We both jump down, and I prevent Will from falling over when he lands the wrong way on an apparently injured foot, causing him to hiss at the sudden force.

"You alright?" I ask him when he steps back after a second to recompose his stance.

"Yeah, but I better be more careful," he replies, testing his weigh slightly on the injured foot. "Think my ankle's sprained or bruised a bit, but at least I can walk at a fast pace normally," Will finishes.

"Good to hear," Rose remarks. "Because we might need to start running soon," she adds as she turns her head back to the door attentively.

"Guards in the hallways looking for us?" I ask her.

"Yeah," she answers. "They know we vanished around here, but they haven't figured out which room we're in yet," she explains quickly. Then, suddenly gunfire can be heard from the hallway. A bullet shoots through the door and barely missed Rose's nose. "Meep," she mutters quietly.

"WE KNOW YOU ARE HERE, CREW OF THE TARDIS!" a high-pitch Dalek voice says. "COME OUT AND SHOW US WHERE YOU ARE, TIMELORD AND HUMAN SCUM!" I almost laugh at the use of Sontaran language in the Dalek's voice.

"YOU WOULD BE BEST ADVISED TO OBEY!" another one with a slightly lower pitch voice adds.

"YES; OBEY! OBEY! YOU WILL OBEY!" the first one agrees.

"Shut up, metal brains," a Sontaran shouts at the two Daleks before opening fire once again, bullet only leaving a mountain-like dent in the door near the door handle.

"That's a Sten gun!" Will exclaims suddenly, recognizing the sound of the gunfire.

"SHHHHH!" the other four of us all shush him at once.

"We found them!" the Sontaran exclaims as he hits the door and tries to break it down, leaving behind a large ovular dent about the size and approximate shape of its head with a dull _clang_ sound. The obvious result is the slumping noise of him falling to the floor, possibly unconscious, but still probably not. Either way, I barely suppress a laugh at the stupidity of the soldier.

"Idiot potato head," a nasal toned Limiter voice retorts, nearly making Rose laugh, if the snort she gave off and the covered smile was anything to go by. "The door has no locks on it," he stated flatly, turning the door handle, making any hilarity disappear instantly.

The five of us on the inside all push against the door with all our combined weights to prevent him, the Sontaran and probably a few other miscellaneous guards from opening the door. More bullets are fired at the door, but only two more penetrate the plated steel door, both of which were at the upper-right corner of the door, making them miss entirely. The other attempts just leave some small dents in the steel plating of the door, or merely make a dull thud as they bounce off harmlessly. Despite the obvious machine gun firepower, the guards were still lacking against the five of us.

"YOU WILL CEASE RESISTING! RESISTANCE IS FUTILE!" the low-pitch Dalek commands. "YOU WILL OBEY! YOU WILL OBEY!" it commands again. Like it would ever work, though. Its voice has too much of an evil branding to it, and it simply might make someone laugh if it tried to instruct them without the knowledge of the body/armor suit that owned it.

"Not a chance!" I exclaim. The door opens a tiny bit, a tiny little crack that could end our lives in a second if we didn't close it fast enough. I tense up as the weight of probably a Sontaran is heaved against the door, opening the crack up enough that the light from the hallway is just barely visible.

"THEN DIE!" then other Dalek says, and then, "EXTERMINATE!" as it shoots an energy pulse at the door. The pulse doesn't destroy it, luckily, but the "pulse" really is a blast of energy that keeps going for a moment as the Dalek probably takes into account the idea that it can push open the door with its rather underestimated firepower. The door starts to very slowly creep forward, and the five of us on the inside slide a little back.

"Push-harder!"

"We're already trying!" the Doctor exasperates, but still grunts as he recomposes himself and does his best to imply more force. But, still only a few seconds later, the door's opening barely five inches wide, the Doctor shouts, "It's still not working!"

I grunt in frustration, take a split second to recompose myself again, and with a forceful grunt push with all I think I've got. The result: the door slams shut in an instant, a loud crashing bang and the sound of resonating metal in my ears.

Several of us fall forward, but I still stay upright, shoulder propped against the door as hard as possible. The guards can't even do anything anymore.

"WHAT HAS HAPPENED?!" the high-pitch Dalek demands. "EXPLAIN! EXPLAIN!" they shout as the two both begin shooting forceful bolts again to try and push open or break down the door. "YOU WILL EXPLAIN! EXPLAIN!" they continue to demand, with the occasional, "YOU WILL SURRENDER!"; "CEASE YOUR FUTILE RESISTANCE!"; or "YOU WILL NOT SUCCEED!" thrown in the mix.

"Don't even bother!" I shout in reply, not even having to imply more force against the door. My muscles are all clenched tight against the force imported by the invaders, the door staying firmly shut- but I feel myself losing my grip on the new-found super strength quickly. "Doctor, find us another way out!" I shout over the commands of the Daleks.

"Got it!" he replies, running off to look around the perimeter of the rather large room. Now that I get the chance to see it all- now that Will and Elliot occupying the capsules isn't bothering me- I look around for the shortest second before having to brace myself against another hit to the door. I can feel myself slipping. "Ugh, can you guys help me and not just stand around!" I say to the others, who all rush to help me.

"Can you at least explain how you suddenly force the door shut like that?!" Elliot queued. "You never did that when you were around us before, but it still could've come in handy several times!" she rambled.

"I don't know, but whatever it was, I'm losing it!" I reply, arms and back becoming cramped up.

More hits to the door result in the four of us slipping the tiniest bit- just enough for another crack-like opening to appear. The four of us groan in frustration.

"How are we even supposed to escape if they come in after us?!" Will questioned. "Won't they gun us down?!"

"Hadn't thought of that before!" I admitted, adjusting myself as I slip a little again as another hard hit pounded at the door. "Ugh, this isn't working!"

"Wait, I have an idea!" the Doctor shouts from behind us. The four of us holding shut the door all turn to look at him hovering over the control panel. "We can escape while the deadlock I am about to active initiates, even if the guards behind the door break in while we do," he explains while he hurriedly fumbles with the numerous buttons and switches on the computer mainframe.

"Where will we go?" Rose asked.

"There are several ventilation ducts throughout the room, the closest being right over there!" the Doctor replies, pointing to the right- his left- and when I turn to look the cover of the duct has already been removed to reveal a large tunnel of ductwork. "We just have to get the door shut in the next sixty seconds!" he continues, rushing back over to the door to help the rest of us do just that.

With a boosted moral, albeit slightly, we all heave as hard as he can, and inch the door shut in about half a minute. The ensuing _shook-clang_ sound means the deadlock security mechanism has activated. The force that resisted us ceases and we are able to let go of the door.

"Good thinking, Doctor," I compliment. "Now, we have to hurry before they start-" I begin to say, but what I about to say would happen happened: the bolts that control the deadlock are being cut, one by one.

"How many bolts hold the deadlock in place?" Rose asks as another couple are cut.

"The good news: fifteen. The bad: they've cut through five, and counting," the Doctor replied all the while they continue to be cut. "Run," he meekly says, and we all rush over to the ventilation duct and hurry in as fast as we can.

Me and Will pull the cover back into place and just start to move as the guards make it into the room, but we don't dare look back in case they see us. But, they're apparently confused, as the last thing I hear a Sontaran say is, "What happened? Why aren't they here?!" I muse at how stupid they really are. Like the Limiter said: they're dumb potato heads.

We keep crawling through the rather- thankfully- clean ducts and don't pass any new vents for several hundred feet.

"Let's stop for a moment," Rose says, and we stop to catch our breath as we take up better sitting positions.

"What happened that they were chasing you? You act like you didn't know we were here before you found us, and I want to know why," Elliot remarked. "Well?" she asked after a moment of silence.

"Um, long story… some of it we don't even know the half about it, though," I reply. "But, I guess there's nothing to harm if we try."

So, the Doctor, Rose, and I fill in the details as best we can, and answer their questions in as short a time span as possible. We finish in about five minutes.

"So, they somehow knew we would come here, they just didn't know when exactly," I finish hurriedly. As I stop to let them ponder on this, I take note of the duo now that we aren't being chased by the guards immediately anymore.

Will's in combat leggings, a worn and dirty light gray T-shirt, and a pair of muddy combat boots. No wonder he was slipping and sliding before. Elliot has her own military pants, sleeveless T-shirt- torn to make it that way- and tall combat boots, all also dirty, but her boots had much less mud on them than Will's did. Probably because she took better care of them or the mud simply wasn't as existent where she had walked. As I took note of the pair, I noticed a book sticking out of Elliot's pocket. It looked worn and dated, like it had been used for centuries, which wasn't actually that odd, considering the fact that it was bound calf-skin, or vellum. How I knew that was a mystery to me.

"What's that in your pocket, Elliot?" I ask her.

"Oh, you mean this?" she replies, pulling out the book carefully. The paper inside rustled a bit as she held it. "You gave it to me, actually. You said you needed it next time we met…" Elliot explained thoughtfully, turning it over in her hands.

"Can I see it, then?" I ask gently, holding out my hand. Elliot started to move to do so, but stopped short. "What is it?"

"It's just, you always wrote things down in here. If you left clues about your future, then you probably shouldn't read it," she answered.

"Well, he did say that the next time we met he would need it," Will countered. "Maybe you meant to give it to your younger self, not you as in the you who knew us for- well, I'll stop there, but you still get what I'm saying, do you?" he asked me.

"Maybe," I admit. It might be the better decision to not read it, but then again… now that I thought about the book, some things in the vortex raging through my head appeared: me writing things down, drawing in red, blue, and black ink, then later painting the more detailed ones in much later, when I had the looks of a twenty year old and I got the vague impression that the me in the vision wasn't alone, despite the appearances of it.

Then I think of something clever. "You know what, if I wrote stuff down in it all the time, there's sure to be some message in it to tell you to give it to the younger me," I tell her.

"That's the thing," Will said. "We tried to read it, but you wrote in some sort of coded language you said only you could understand," he explained. "You said something about it being some 'ancient language' of power or something like-"

"Give it over," I command, holding out my hand. Elliot hands it to me readily, despite her previous apprehensions. I open the cover, and indeed, I can read some of it- bits and pieces only at the time, but enough to partially decode the rest.

"Hey, I recognize that," the Doctor said in awe. "That's the Piltoch manuscript! I tried to decode it once, but I failed to decode more than what had already been ciphered out, with a few new words here and there," he explained.

"How'd you know that? It isn't supposed to exist in our world according to Junior," Will remarked.

"Maybe there's only one copy in the multiverse," the Doctor explained. "And, frankly, I found it to be made of New Earth- the fourteenth New Earth, so New-new-new-new-new-new-new-new-new-new-new-new-new-new Earth, to be more precise- made of New Earth three-eyed pumice sheep skin, so I didn't tell anyone that it was really a couple thousand instead of a couple hundred years old. It is rather rich in radioactive carbon, more than that of the original earth, so it was far older than predicted. And that was only in 1999."

"Huh, that's the year I was born in my world," I remarked. "I recognize some of the words, with all the accents. Although, this is definitely my scrawling handwriting," I add, chuckling a bit. "No one is as sloppy and rushed as me sometimes. This is probably my better handwriting, actually, if I really did write all this."

"I can vouch that you did write the entire thing. You said so yourself," Elliot said.

"Well, then it is my best handwriting." I flipped through the pages a bit, and stumble upon some plant drawings. I flipped through the pages, recognizing a few, and then I see one that could never be mistaken. "Dreamshade," I say, looking at the name, letters floating off the page, and suddenly the letters clicked back in place, in English. "Okay, that's odd," I remarked.

"The… dreamshade, was it?" Rose asked.

"It was dreamshade, but not specifically that. When I first read it, the word was in I guess the ancient language from the Inheritance world," I explained. "When I said the name, the letters rearranged themselves and wrote the word in English- like I had just decoded it, in my head. Sort of like the TARDIS's translation matrix, now that I think about it."

"Now that's definitely odd," the Doctor remarked. "If you can translate it, then you have more TARDIS DNA than I expected, because the TARDIS isn't not letting me read that- she can't read it herself," he added.

"Then that is really odd," I agree.

"Um, you said something about the Inheritance world, right?" Rose asked. "What is that supposed to be?"

"I can tell you," Will answered. "It's the world, I think, that the Inheritance Cycle is focused around. The book series I think became embedded in my universe and Junior's universe as the Inheritance Cycle, but you've never heard of it either because it isn't recognized by your universe, or it simply hasn't come out yet in 2006- that's your year, right?"

"No, very early 2007. We dealt with the living plastic Christmas of 2005, the Sigarax in 2006, and I bet that there's going to be another attack on Christmas of 2007 at this rate," Rose explained.

"Well, I've read just about every book and book series out there, and heard of them all up to around, ah, say, 3010, but never an Inheritance Cycle," the Doctor remarked.

"No Eragon, Eldest, anything at all?" Will asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Nope, not at all," the Doctor replied.

"Then it's a once per reality thing, then," Will concluded.

"Wait, what do you mean by that, once per reality, exactly? There's more than just the name implies, right?" Rose asked.

"Let me clarify: if something can only happen once per reality, it's that way because the origin of the idea doesn't come from that one reality, but from another. Like, it can only exist in one universe per reality save the one that originated around it. There can be a multitude of universes that all start the same way, namely the one clarified in the Inheritance Cycle, and all of them identical up to a certain point, like ending of the book series, then they split their separate ways to go and become, say, technologically advanced, or maybe some evolutionary mixing pool where all the main species collide and come together in odd mixes," Will explained.

"That's enough for now," I said. "We need to get going again. I don't know how confused they might be about our whereabouts, but they probably know where the TARDIS is, and she's our only way off this planet."

"Well, we could signal for some help, but we'd probably get exterminated along the way," the Doctor suggested. "That or we could figure out a way to get to the developing continent on the other side of the planet. They'd never find us there," he said in realization.

"Wait, you said that the only island- oh, the only island on the planet, ha-ha, very funny, make us believe we're on a completely water world," I realize. "Wait, where on the planet are we right now, in comparison to latitude-longitude kind of thing?"

"We are at about the magnetic north pole around the equator. This planet has had its polarity moving about for several more billions of years than earth, so I suspect that there will be some oddities with the poles, like they don't have compass orientations like earth does. This planet _is_, after all, mostly water," the Doctor explained quickly. "The developing continent is swampy marshland, which is mostly comprised of sandbars and nothing truly resembling a landmass, but I did say it was only developing. There isn't any wildlife, but plant life has taken root at this point. So, we should be able to find something or another to hide in around there. At least some exposed islands large enough to land a TARDIS on with some space could be found, I believe."

"Great. How far is it, and how do we get there?" Elliot asked. "A raft, a plane, the TARDIS, what do we use?"

"This is if the TARDIS isn't where we left it," I explain.

"Well, if the TARDIS has been captured, then we have to save her. The Daleks alone could rebuild Skaro and destroy the rest of the universe with that technology. Just imagine what the Sontarans or that other species could use it for," the Doctor explained thoughtfully. "Okay, so escape to the other continent is out of the question. What else have we got? We need the TARDIS, and we don't have a way to get to her without being out in the open for several minutes to hours, depending on how we do it- which is more than plenty of time for Daleks or Sontarans to find us."

"That 'other species', as you said it, is the Styx, and they happen to be better hunters than Slitheen, Doctor! They might be able to find us up to hours before a Dalek or Sontaran could," I explain to him.

Somewhat questioning looks from the other two showed their confusion. "I thought you said you hadn't visited our world," remarked Will.

"I haven't!" I replied. "Did I not tell you, or did you forget if I did, you're in a book series as well! I never read the last book, didn't have the time to go out and buy it, but I don't think I was supposed to be involved in it."

Will's taken aback for a second, but Elliot says, "You did say that we were in a book series, but never did you show or know it to be that descriptive."

"Well, if the book's so old, maybe I was getting old, too. I've already seen that I more than outlive the Doctor, you know!" I remarked. "Maybe I get a little forgetful in my time. I know the Doctor does a bit."

"Hey! I'm not forgetful- at least not yet!" the Doctor rebukes. "I don't want to know what's in my future until I get to it, so don't say anything about it," he warned.

"Alright, no more sp- oh, right, you don't know that yet. The future can be such an annoying prospect sometimes," I comment. "I think, we ought to find out if they captured the TARDIS," I say after a moment to think. "What about you?" I ask the other four.

"Find the TARDIS, escape, then plan out the rest," Rose answered.

"Our world has been taken over by the Styx, so we should plan on how to free it from their tyrannous grip. We'll need the TARDIS to do that, so we obviously need to find out where they might've taken it. Hopefully, they did, and we don't have to go out in the open," Elliot answered. "Despite how odd that may sound, if they did steal it, it might make our job ten times easier."

"It'll be guarded either way," the Doctor said, "but we need to prevent them from stripping her to her pieces and parts. There's a reason why I stole my TARDIS from a repair shop after all," he added. "To save her from being scrapped. This kind Timelady _did_ point out the TARDIS I stole, though. I found out that the other TARDIS was scheduled for restructuring instead of decommissioning, unlike what I had thought, so it was indeed a better trade." The Doctor took a breath and cleared his throat. "None the less, we have to rescue her. I don't want to think what any of the three species could be doing to her right at this moment."

"Agreed," Will and I said at the same time. We look at each other, and I can sense at least something prying on his mind, but I can't tell what it is, no matter how hard I gently pry. Will smiles a bit and winks at me quickly, then looks away.

All I can tell is he has practice blocking his thoughts from me. Probably had more than enough time to learn how to by trial and error when he knew me or I just taught him myself. I bet it's more courteous to others to do the latter, but why would I? Why would I if I couldn't sense their thoughts of action in a time of need, or I simply need to know what's bothering them? I made the promise to help those in need of help- if you read between the lines, that is- when I "created" my name.

Well, whatever the reason, I don't exactly like it. But, truth be told, it's sealed, signed, and delivered now that it's been laid out on the table, if you ask me. It's now hereby a fixed point, since I've already seen it in action.

"Well, whatever we do, we better avoid getting close to anywhere where they might catch us along the way. Best to stay in the ductwork," I tell them, and they all nod.

"Probably best, I agree," the Doctor says. "Not unless you can turn invisible like the TARDIS can, that is," he muses thoughtfully. "If you could, then you could probably sneak past the guards and everyone else, but you might run into trouble if you run into a Dalek with its infrared vision on or maybe a heat sensor or motion detector if you don't stay close to someone with access."

"Like a remote key-card that the security scans on the go and lets you pass?" I ask.

"Exactly. They just have little tags or something in their clothing, even. But, I bet you can't get at them, even if you _can_ turn invisible. Actually, I want to know, do you know if you can?"

I shake my head. "No, but I can try." Closing my eyes, I focus on the energy I felt when I used that rather incredible strength to hold closed the door. I focus on channeling it elsewhere: not my muscles, but my skin and the air around it to bend the light around it. As I do so, I hear a sharp breath from I think Rose. I open my eyes, hold out my hands, and they literally aren't there. "Cool. It works."

"Um, are you still in the same place as before?" the Doctor says. Eyes darting around for some sort of blur or sign I'm somewhere else.

"Yeah, I am, so quick looking around for me like I'm a lost child," I tell him, and his eyes settle in my direction. "Now, how does this help? I walk around like an undead ghost- I'm just kidding. What do I do, what do I look for?"

"Start by making yourself visible again so I don't have to guess where your feet are," the Doctor instructs.

"Fine," I sigh, letting go of my concentration to maintain the invisibility. "Better?" I ask the Doctor.

"Better," he replies.

"So, what does he do, and then what do we do in the meantime?" Will asked. "You can bet you won't get either me or Elliot off our toes until we're out of Styx territory."

"He's right," Rose agreed. "We're no use if we don't do our own stuff. Whether it be surveillance, or something else entirely, we should do our part."

"Agreed," Elliot stated.

"Well, I wonder..." the Doctor said thoughtfully, turning back to me. After a moment, he asked, "Junior, do you think you could bring at least one other person with you? What I have in mind might be a bit of trouble with three, but downright too risky to attempt with four. Otherwise, someone's going to have to stay behind, or everyone but you."

"I might be able to do it, but I want to try here first," I reply. I look at the others, and decide to try and see if I might be able to pry something of that secret thought from Will. Oddly, as I look at him, there seems to be some vague form of recognition, like he might be not just from my future, but vaguely from my past, as well. Not me in his, but him or someone who looks like him in mine.

It dawns on me that he actually resembles the guy who might just be a counterpart in another universe: my best friend, Lucas. Both of them have white hair, sensitivity to light, heck, they both even only just found their real parents- Will his mom the one time, his dad for several weeks, and Lucas his mom he never met, but he lives with his dad now, and one time he visited his mom's grave. He also had a brother- who got killed in the same car wreck that instantly killed his mother. A big difference, though, is that the cats they have, while both hairless and excellent sniffer-cats of oversized proportion, they aren't the same species, but they still are very close. I almost laughed at the realization.

"How about Will?" I ask. "You're closest to me, anyway," I add. I close my eyes again, and focus long and hard on Will and transferring the energy within me around the two of us, and then I refine and focus it on bending the light around us, and I can sense the vaguest impression of satisfaction from none other than Will. I open my eyes, and I see… three other people. Will is gone. "Did it work on Will?" I ask, knowing Will might be playing a trick on me.

"Yes," he says from right next to me, making me jump a little.

"That explains your satisfactory impression," I remark. "You are better than the Doctor at hiding your thoughts, you know that?" I ask him.

I can tell he's smiling by the slight difference in his speech and the smug tone embedded in it. "Now, why would you think that?" he asked. "The Doctor might just be letting you read his thoughts."

"Or maybe he just can't because of his empathic nature," I counter.

I can feel a hand on my shoulder, an invisible one, and I can sense a slight impression of knowingness from the other. "What is it?" I ask him.

_It's better you heard from someone other than Elliot, since she couldn't help but taunt the two of us about it for next- well, actually, she still does_, he thinks to me. I'm surprised at the clarity of his thoughts- direct and unlike that of even the Doctor's, whose thoughts are a mad jumbled mess of random strings of lectures, speeches, and random sentence fragments of his and his companions' pasts.

_What is it, then?_ I ask him through thought.

_I'll explain when the one person who can hear our thoughts isn't within a meter of us_, he tells me, implying the Doctor, who I can myself sense is tuning in.

_Eavesdropper,_ the two of us shout at him, making him back up an inch.

"Jeez, not so loudly, you two. I'm just curious what you're saying," the Doctor defended.

"Well, I find it rude to eavesdrop on private telepathic conversations," I retort.

"Same here," Will agreed.

"Well, can you two just go and find out where the TARDIS is while the three of us go do other stuff? We'll meet back up where we break off, which should be at the next ductwork opening both groups can exit out of without being caught," the Doctor instructed.

I nod, and I can sense the tiny bit of approval/acceptance from Will that probably means he's nodding too.

"Well?" the Doctor asks. I'm confused for a second until it dawns on me that me and Will are still invisible.

"Oh, sorry, forgot you couldn't tell if we were nodding," I admit. "Yeah, let's do that."

"Alright, then," the Doctor concludes, clapping his hands together and getting ready to start crawling again. "Allons-y!" he says, and starts crawling forward.

The other four of us look in each other's directions knowingly, and of course all smile at the ongoing catch phrase of his. Rose and I look each other's way and share that knowing look where you shake your head and smile knowingly at how funny someone looks when they do that. But, after a second to recompose ourselves, we start crawling after him, me letting myself and Will turn visible again so we can see where we're going for now. I line up behind Will, Rose following Elliot in front of us.

"This sucks," Rose says after she moves around a small pile of bones from who knows what.

"Well, it's not so bad back here," I muse, looking Rose's way.

"Hey!" she exclaims before an unsettled look crosses her face. "That's what Toby said, you know that, right?"

I realize what I said, and the odd impression I left on her. "Not what I meant, Rose. And, I know. He was a pervert, even possessed in the clutches of telepathic evil," I say. "I meant I don't find bones and death all that bad. Death can really brighten up one's life, if you think about it the right way and imply it the right ways," I explain.

She snorts. "So you're one of _those_ people," Rose says.

"No, not just 'one of those people'," I retort. "I am not that kind of person. Death is simply a fascinating topic if you use it right."

"Well, whatever the case, just drop it, will you?" the Doctor says from ahead. "I think I hear voices in the distance," he warned.

The rest of the way, we were all quiet, and we remained silent until we reached the opening in the ductwork, where the Doctor took one look and snapped his head back.

"Keep going," he mouths to us, and points his hand in the direction we were traveling before. He slid through the tunnel quickly and quietly, and then mouthed, "Fast and quiet."

I nod in understanding, as do the others. We manage to pass the vent with relative ease, no one noticed us, but we might have slightly alerted the staff below. In the room, there were several more cryogenic capsules, many of them filled. In one of them, there was a girl that Will seemed to be amazed was there- he stopped for a moment, and even Elliot slowed to notice her.

There were also several vats filled with some kind of liquid green goo- not like diarrhea or some sort of obviously fake vomit, but more like a light forest green that smells like vomit and looks a lot like pea soup.

The vent was high in the room, close to the ceiling, so it was unlikely that anyone saw us, but they could've heard us and notified the guards had any more noise been made. When we got far enough away, Rose asked the Doctor, "What were in those green tanks?"

"They hold a sort of embryo that can become a genetic copy of just about anyone of nearly any sentient and sapient species. They have limited capacity for thought, so it makes them hard to read telepathically, but they can usually have the original person on hand in a sort of coma to use for memories and what emotions to feel- if necessary, that is," he explains.

"My ex-girlfriend was a clone of-" I start to say, but Elliot finishes for me.

"Was a clone of me, we all should know," she said.

"The only differences were maybe she didn't have a link to you, thus she had no human-appreciative memories like you have, and she said she had more Styx DNA, which I personally doubt could work effectively. She probably just has more active Styx DNA than human, like her biological mother would've been a Styx and her father human, the mother's genes playing the more dominant role," I add.

"Well, that's possible to do, just a bit hard to accomplish," the Doctor remarked thoughtfully. "Possible, but not too likely unless the DNA chains were a close enough match to activate and deactivate both with few signals, otherwise the DNA might be rendered unusable, but still have them different enough to have a comprehensive understanding which is which and what to activate and deactivate with the correct genes relying on the correct or incorrect corresponding genes," he explained, mostly to himself.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Will asked.

"If the DNA was too close, they could confuse it, in a way, but it needs to still be close enough to switch which roles the chains play with as few attempts as possible, or they can't use the sample," I explain. "Trial and error, and a whole lot of test tube babies probably went into that one clone, none of them turning out any good- unless one got human compassion before being gunned down and the Styx moved on to the next…" I muse thoughtfully.

"Doubtful that ever happened," Elliot snorted.

"Well, if it did or not, the end product was nothing short of evil, if not completely pure, but devilishly close, I tell ya," I remark, shaking my head at what it implies and the utter truth of it. "She's as bad as any average Styx, if you ask me, and I frankly never want to run into her again unless it's to somehow get her out of the picture."

Will and Elliot share a short look, and I can't even get a single read of the glance. I have honestly no clue what they're thinking, they have their mental shields up high enough to block me out, and their faces only show some sort of… recognition, not quite knowing, but maybe something they know of they just might have correlated to this.

I decide not to worry about it, though. Best not to think about… _her_. I shuddered at the thought of her insectoid legs, the insectoid tube that probably had sometime popped out of her mouth, and everything else freaky that relates to her and the Styx- let alone the Warrior race or the Armagi.

I stop then and there. "Wait, Will, Elliot, what do you know of the Armagi?" I ask the pair. They stop, Elliot letting Rose pass by on the side.

They look at each other with that same look. "You'll find out," Will said vaguely before continuing on.

After a moment's consideration, Elliot says, "What he said. But, Junior," she adds worriedly, maybe, or possibly in warning, "be careful. We don't know what happened to them to make them vanish without a trace, but they could easily have been moved to here. Just, keep your eyes peeled for any fleshy pink skin, wings on a fur ball, or anything outrageous like that." And with that, she continued crawling after the others, and I decide to continue following, despite my now utter confusion.

It's another silent fifteen minutes of creaking aluminum, tiring knees, hunched shoulders, and piles of rodent bones. We all honestly have no clue why they were there, but god knows whatever put them down there, we never wanted to meet it. That is for sure.

At the next vent, we stop, and, seeing the room is empty, we go into it. The room is another spacious cryogenic room, this time occupied by some new faces. Will walks up to one specific tank while the rest of us look at a few others. The faces none of us recognized, but they still struck a chord, as there were almost twenty of them. The one empty tank was one with a crack in it, so it was more than obvious that these tanks were made to be used, possibly specific to one person.

"Is that… oh my god, Cal," Will awed, wide eyed in disbelief. "But… he can't be…"

"What?" Elliot and I said at the same time. We quickly glanced at each other, then ran over to the capsule. Elliot gasped in recognition, and I can see why she did. Cal, sadly covered in scars from numerous bullets hitting him, was amazingly still in perfect bodily condition. In fact… the fact that he was _covered in scars_ was enough to say he was more or less alive in some way.

"I thought you threw him into the Pore?" I ask Will.

He nods. "I did. That's impossible, unless they salvaged his body and, I don't know, brought him back to life?" Will awes. "I don't know how, but they did."

"What, who's Cal?" Rose asks.

"I'm guessing someone who died," the Doctor remarked.

The three of us who knew nodded in unison, exchanging looks with each other. "Well, I don't think he should be alive. Wasn't he already dead for, I don't know, several hours by the time you pushed him off?" I ask Will, who just nods.

"Yeah, I think so," he says, eyes shimmering a tiny bit with tears. Elliot wraps an arm around his shoulder, and the two stare on at the impossibility in front of them.

"He can't be a clone, can he?" Rose asked.

"No," Will and Elliot say at the same time.

I get the pressing feeling I should know something that I don't. I brush it off, but it fights itself back into my attention once again. I stop forcing it away, and try to find out where it was coming from. I feel the book in my pocket twitching slightly. I pull it out, and the cover seems to be pulsing with some sort of… blue energy, like thick veins, all leading into the pages of the book.

I open it up, and find a page where every stream seems to converge: the one with a diagram of streaming energy seems to be prominent. It details a person, much like what I guessed to be me, only slightly older looking and with darker hair than I imagined, nearly chestnut, and Cal, who looks just the same as he does now, only he's got a shirt on, and he's apparently dead in the picture.

As I look at it, I notice a foldout on the next page. I open it up, and see that the back has another image, similar in making, but without the streaming energy, and Cal's jolted into a position of sudden awareness- like he had just woken up from a nightmare, his eyes wide open, jaw dropped.

I bet my eyes grew to the size of saucers as I studied the picture on the other side of the foldout: several people, apparently military, likely Limiters from their attire, dragging away an unconscious Cal, and where I stood is only a blue circle. Some sort of… message was written in the circle, but it made no sense. The few words I could decode were 'you shall… later on… a cost.' Then, I see what looks like a signature glyph, because it has the single period after it and a dash before it.

The glowing energy fades, and I become aware of everyone staring at me. I shake my head to clear my thoughts and come back to the topic at hand.

"Hello, anyone there?" Rose asked.

"Yeah, sorry, I just…" I trailed off as I held up the book. "I think I found something rather… _interesting_ that might help up find out why Cal is here," I confessed.

"How'd you know what to look for in the book? You just made a mad scramble to look for a certain page, as if you'd find the answer," Will added.

"You didn't see the tendrils of energy?" I asked.

"No," he replied, slightly confused.

"I did," the Doctor said, walking up beside me. "I think that book holds a bit of you in it- which is why only empathic or telepathic beings can see the energy, because its selective to specific types of people," he explained.

I nod in understanding. "Good to know," I respond, looking back at the book. I flip the page back to the other side, and show the Doctor the illustrations. "I think you might recognize this, now that I think about it," I add, correlating what he said about a piece of me being in the book, like some sort of energy… timelord energy…

…Regeneration energy. I just found out that I could possibly regenerate.

"Oh my, you're right," the Doctor gaps. "That's regeneration energy- and a lot of it. It must have taken several lives to create that much if the picture is precise," he analyzes. "Whatever the cost, it must've been great. What's on the next page?" the Doctor asks, putting his spectacles on.

I sigh, turn the page, and he cocks his head back. "Well that's weird. It's like you blobbed yourself out of the picture…" he remarked thoughtfully.

The others pressed up against us, and looked at the pictures. I flipped the page back, held it for a moment so they could soak it in before flipping it over.

"The words in the bubble I can barely understand, but I think I signed it there," I tell them, pointing at the glyph.

"Makes sense. Seems like an additional message, like one you wrote as a co-author, or an illustrator that couldn't write anything elsewhere. Well, then again, the paint was supposed to have been added much later than the original drawings," the Doctor continued thoughtfully.

"Yeah, looks like it," Rose mused. "Junior, if you painted this, then you, sir, are a terrible painter, or an incredibly rushed man," she commented.

"Probably both, but mostly the latter," I remarked. I look at Will and Elliot. "Do you know how old I was when I gave you this? I'd like to know, since I've already seen scraps of my timeline," I add hurriedly.

They glance at each other- first a bit of confusion, then that look again, which was frankly getting very annoying. "You ought to know that you live to be fairly old, right?" Elliot questioned.

"I know I die around my ten thousandth birthday," I respond flatly. I take everyone but Will aback. I glance at him, but he just shakes his head, as if he's implying we talk about it later.

"You said you'd outlive me, but I thought I'd only live to around up to two thousand years old, at the most, if I'm lucky- and you're lucky," the Doctor began. "I thought you meant, oh, say, a couple centuries, or you just lived after I died, not necessarily longer than me, or maybe you meant up to a millennium of extra life span because you had the ability to sustain your life better because of your TARDIS DNA. I never thought you meant outliving me by nearly eight and a half to nine thousand years."

I chuckle a bit. "You think too hard in your old age, you know that?" I ask him playfully.

"I'm not _that_ old," he defended himself.

"You and I both know that's a bit of a lie. You've said yourself, and will continue to say, you're getting older. You're already to the tenth Doctor, with one extra. You only have a few more regenerations before you're done, and I know you admit that old age hasn't been a problem before," I counter.

The Doctor opens his mouth to argue, but cuts himself short, and nods. "You're right, I am getting older, but not nearly as old as you'll get," he adds.

"You know your TARDIS in already nearly twelve thousand, right?" I ask him. "And she may have been a collector's item, but she's still young compared to her predecessors. You know how old they were just by the time you first left Gallifrey."

"Right, right, but you're… partly human, and partly timelord. The oldest timelords were around five thousand if they were lucky in my days. They had figured out the technique to steal the life force of others around that time, and it was made useful in timelords who were to be forced to regenerate but couldn't without another's life energy to supply it. Of course, on occasion, a TARDIS would donate their last stores of energy to help, but they could only help so many," the Doctor explained. "They all died around six thousand, maybe, if they were of the very earliest, and that was only around six or so possible. And I'm not even sure if they were still alive when I destroyed Gallifrey." He stopped, and a depressed look came about him.

I didn't have to forcefully read what he was thinking, but the expression on his face told a lot without the memories that streamed untamed from his psyche: children and grandchildren, all running around a red lawn and playing together in their childish ways; what looked to be the infinite schism, time vortex flowing by at a steady pace, and then the sight of someone running as fast as possible, through their eyes; a girl, who I vaguely recognized, climbing into what looked like a TARDIS capsule, unaltered but in a salvage shop. The inside was stripped down and ready to be taken apart, with only a narrow platform of solid ground to walk on until you got to the main controls, which were taken apart and scattered around the floor. Then, from out of nowhere, a girl who I recognized came up to the Doctor. "I'm sorry, but you're about to make a very big mistake," she said. "Don't steal that one, steal this one. The navigation systems just couldn't be more fun," she finished as she leaned on the TARDIS she meant, and I could see her satisfaction in what she did when she smiled and walked proudly away.

As the memories dispersed, I looked back at Cal. I had already figured out the bit about it being me that somehow might've brought him back to life. But, how had I just _vanished_ to make the third picture what it was. And what did that message say? I hoped that the boy in the cryogenic tank had something to say about it.

"I think Cal might know some answers," I say. I put the book back in my pocket, and walk over to the controls. "Doctor, watch the door. See if you can deadlock it incognito, if you get what I mean," I tell him. I turn to Rose and the duo. "You three should either help me explain the current situation, or guard the door and listen for any outside activity."

"I'll watch the door again," Rose offered. "You guys might be better suited for this than me," she added with a glance at the other two, then one at me before she walked to the door and leaned against it. She looked at the handle, and saw what looked like a complex lock. "Okay, that's weird," she muttered before attempting to activate it. She managed to do so with not even much more than the twisting and turning of the locking mechanism. Then the deadlock slid into place.

"Ooh, you made it a double-deadlock by locking the door, Rose. Oh, good job," the Doctor praised.

I shake my head at the sheer humor of the words. You've watched Doctor Who, so you should know what I'm talking about. Plain and simple: the Doctor treats his companions like people he can't love because they're all so much younger than him, and he's able to grow really old, and they can't without him having to sacrifice a large amount of his own lifetime of helping people- even if it sounds selfish, the regeneration energy might not even work, considering it merely repairs the body when used on humans- like it did to Cal.

Focusing my attention on unfreezing Cal, I slowly raise the temperature manually at a lower speed than used on Will and Elliot until I get to around his waistline with the draining cryogenic compound, at which point it seems he'll wake up before the air is pumped back into the tank completely. I speed it up the required tiny bit, and let the automatics do their thing. I turn off all the alarms on the equipment, as they will likely just be a distraction. I focus on Cal so much, I didn't realize that there was a second tank that was controlled- and it wasn't in this room, but the next one over.

_Oh, come on! Why do you have to make my job so much harder!?_ I mentally scold the controls. Shaking my head, I look at the status of defrost on the other person. It's about the same as Cal, if not slightly behind. Good, I can hopefully reverse it. Then I glance at name and some information in the top pane. It reads:

CHESTER RAWLS, AGE FIFTEEN

CURRENT CONDITION: DEFREEZING CRYOGENISUS

CRYOGENISUS TIME: 02 YEARS. 3 MONTHS. 17 DAYS. 12 HOURS. 47 MINUTES.

MEDICAL REQUIREMENTS: NONE

WARNINGS: PART OF THE RESISTANCE AGAINST THE GREATER CAUSE. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO UNFREEZE. HE IS TO BE KEPT ON ICE UNTIL I SAY SO.

-THE HEAD STYX

_Weird… he's fifteen, though… how long have Elliot and Will been on ice?_ I ask myself. _And it says he's been on ice here for two years. So, that cannot be anything to go by, save for they've been here longer than any of us know._ I decide to go with my gut instinct and let Chester defrost. It's better to let him do so more slowly, though, because if he wakes up without anyone there it might be bad. I add a new layer of ice and a delay on further defrosting. That'll give me half an hour or so, maybe a bit more. I decide to tell Will and Elliot what I've found.

"Um, guys, I think I also found Chester in the next room," I tell them. "I'm defrosting him right now."

Will smiles gleefully, and Elliot smiles appreciatively, and they hug each other with eagerness and anticipation.

"Cal should be waking up soon, and I think we should have about twenty minutes before we have to go check on Chester. I set up a delay," I explain, and Will nods in understanding.

"Better we'd be there; else he'll completely flip out. Even then, from what happened in the Hold, he might still flip his lid," Will adds, a rather depressed and saddened expression crossing his face before he shakes his head to clear his thoughts.

"I should warn you, though, he's already a fifteen year old, if this description is anything to go by," I caution. "So, he might've been put on ice later than you two were."

"He was put on ice after us, we know that. If he had been, it was after we were. We heard the remaining Rebecca twin talking about not finding our friend quite yet. Figures she meant Chester," Will explained. "I think we ought to congratulate him if he managed to avoid the Styx long enough to do that."

"Well, I wouldn't be surprised. He did have Parry, Old Wilkie, and anyone else on the surface that could've helped. It'd take a while to ever find some of the records to any of the safe houses, if Parry is correct that they had all been secret and built for things like World War II, but were simply repurposed to aid in our cause," Elliot said thoughtfully. "If the Styx found them, then that means they must've been keeping a very close eye out, and patrolling the streets for anyone within a very, very long list. There's at least several dozen dead ends Parry could've set up that were less obviously dead ends than the original route. Of course, the Styx are clever enough to anticipate everything, so they follow everyone."

"And you literally mean everyone, down to friend of friend kind of thing, right?" I ask, and Elliot nods. "Definitely well thought out, I must say, but it sucks that the techniques have to be used by such evil…"

The Doctor nods from his deadlock observance controls. When I peer over at them, what I see through the TARDIS's eyes is Gallifreyan glyphs. Odd. I look back at my screen and read English. When I glance at the Doctor's a second time, they're English before they fade back to Gallifreyan. Definitely weird.

Then I realize how illiterate the Doctor must be in English. It hits home, but makes perfect sense. No wonder he always is trying to get others to use the TARDIS's translation matrix. They're always speaking English to him, and he probably wonders if it's possible to condition them so he can literally hear Gallifreyan, not have to hear the translation, when they speak to him. That'd save him a bit of mental energy.

He obviously is the only exception to the 'no Gallifreyan translations via TARDIS' rule. Of course, converting Gallifreyan to another language is one thing, converting another language to Gallifreyan should be a piece of cake. And, for a living, time traveling Gallifreyan supercomputer, of course it's simpler than that.

I focus my thoughts back to Cal as I see the signs of him coming to. "Guys, he's almost awake," I caution. "Be careful what you say though, okay?" I add. "There's no telling what he's been through, coming back to life and all."

"Okay," Will and Elliot both say, nodding. They look at each other in apprehension.

Cal begins to more visibly breathe, chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. After a minute or two for him to become a bit more conscious and a whole lot warmer, his eyelids twitch a little before they slowly open. He groans a bit as he shifts around a little. Cal focuses on Will and Elliot with an obvious happiness.

"I'm glad you're here and not any Limiters," he said. "You know they shot me down, right?" he added.

Will seemed to be blinking tears out of his eyes. "Yeah, I know, I was there," he replied. "I thought you were dead," he admitted.

"That's because I was," Cal said depressed, shoulders slumping in some sort of annoyance. "Death isn't very welcoming," he adds, making me shake my head a bit. Of course it isn't. It's a daunting prospect for everyone and everything that lives. Anything that lives eventually dies.

"I would bet it is, Cal," Elliot responded.

"Well, it's good to see you both again," Cal said. He shifted around again, but grunted a little in pain. On the monitor, I see that most of his scars are still healing, and that he was being not only kept alive before, but also that he was being regenerated, bit by bit. And, I literally mean _regenerated_, with regeneration energy. And I might add it's some of mine, by the looks of the book before.

"You'd better avoid shifting around too much, or your scars will start to bleed again," the Doctor advised. "Hello, I'm the Doctor- and I am not human, nor a Styx, if you are about to ask. You're currently in a different universe than you own, and I am an alien from a distant, long since destroyed planet called Gallifrey. I created the term 'doctor' in this universe because of my helping so many people heal and provide knowledge. I might have… coined the term, if you will."

Cal raised an eyebrow. "What'd he just say?" he asked Will and Elliot. "Everything sounded like Drake lecturing us how to do something using too sophisticated terms and fancy words," he remarked, saying 'sophisticated' with some difficulty that might've made me laugh if his voice wasn't so coarse from disuse.

The Doctor's mood turned from 'I just explained everything in a nutshell' to 'why do I even bother trying' in an instant.

I couldn't stop and I chuckled at the expression. I pushed the button that released the door lock, and it swung open, still laughing. I toss Will the hunting knife from before so he can cut the straps holding Cal in place. I again focus on Chester. His ice is getting thinner, but still holding, yet only just. It was wearing a bit thin.

"We better hurry here and get to Chester before he finishes defrosting," I warn the others, who nod in understanding.

"Chester's here too?" Cal asks.

"Yep. Elliot and I were on ice for a while ourselves, at least until these three came and helped us," Will replied. He cut through the third strap, and helped Cal get down. He stumbled a bit on his bad ankle, but otherwise him and Cal weren't any worse for wear, save for Cal might be in a tiny bit more pain from his numerous healing bullet wounds. I guessed at the time that the Styx were probably trying to keep his life sustained at the brink of it requiring regeneration energy to keep him alive, or he would heal so slowly it would barely make a difference for quite a while. Still, his scars were merely scars, though, after what could be anything between two to five-ish years. That could still mean they could keep healing, or they might just be permanent. Honestly, scars from numerous bullet wounds, all almost to the point where they resembled early over-powered paintball gun wounds.

Cal and Will gently embraced, and they parted with a smile. "It's good to see you're alright," Will said.

"You too," Cal replied.

Will turned to face me, and said, "Now let's go get Chester." I nod.

Cal followed his brother's gaze and stared at me like I was some impossible thing. Then again, I already was, and remain to this second. I remain to be a paradox, no matter where I go.

But it's the recognition and the constant writing off of the possibility all at the same time that gets me. Will glances between his staring brother and me. I glance between the two for what seems like a few minutes, trying to get them both to just ignore me for once. I'm still shy, despite my cocky and outgoing attitudes sometimes.

"How are you here?" Cal finally asks. "And you look ages younger, you know that?" he adds.

I roll my eyes. "Did I have time to explain to you that I'm a time traveler when you met me?" I questioned. He shook his head. I groaned in frustration.

"You had time to say something like a prophecy, though. And, how does being a time traveler make you able to be younger in my future?"

The first part caught me off guard. But I understood the second half. "To answer your second question, I can travel into your past, and thus be older when I arrive in your past. Thus, you know me before I know you," I explain. "To respond to your first remark, um, I have no clue what you are talking about."

"Great, then I'll tell you. You did tell me to remind you of it, now that I think about it," he responded. "_You shall deliver another life, still while yours will be lost; their life will go without strife, but immortality has a cost._" Cal paused for a moment before asking, "Do you know what that means?"

I look at the Doctor for what he's thinking. And it's exactly what I'm thinking.

_It's bloody Jack Harkness all over again, isn't it?_ I think to myself.

**A/N: Another cliffhanger, of sorts! Just, slightly less of one, by the feel of it. More like condensed tension. XD This is a good place to leave off, as the chapter's already almost twelve thousand words. More words in this chapter than years Junior lives, and as many pages as my version of Rose's age (22)! Incredible!**

**Well, I typed this up really late, so I'm just going to say you should note that I am actually a slightly morbid person- just not on a regular basis. No comments on this, please, I really am not the death expert. Kaitlin from Order of the Good Death is. Ask her stuff- not me.**

**Okay, well, um, if you've never heard of some of the things in here, you can tell they are made up. The book is based off the Voynich manuscript, and the Voynich manuscript actually does exist, so yeah, based off a real thing for once! You can look it up if you want to know more. Although, if you notice something about unclothed women- ignore the pictures, you perverted bastards- I will explain why those would be there. Just, note that they aren't as plentiful as they actually are in Junior's version. Also, no, the real thing isn't in the ancient language. Sorry.**

**Also, what about Cal? Not the supercomputer this time- the person in Tunnels. I brought him back because I **_**hated**_** to have to see him go in the series. Besides, this is a dramatic detail. It adds to a thickening plot of twists, turns, and creates holes for my future flashbacks. Seriously, flashbacks are probably one of the hardest things to insert correctly in stories. I've seen too many short stories in my Language Arts classes- English classes, same thing- that have some sort of flashback and it sounds so… terribly placed. I'm leaving it at that.**

**Reviews are appreciated! Thanks, readers, for all your feedback! Yeah, I'm a philosophical optimist with a debatable personality that seems like the strangest blend of Dutch, Dane, and German influence out there in a single half-mad teenage head. Honestly, if you knew me for real, you'd understand. Also, release dates… might be a bit more delayed than I said *guilty conscious*. So sorry, but I have a minor- and hence how I say minor- writer's block. I have so many ideas for the future, and I know how Part 1 (The Existence of Our Worlds and Thoughts, if you have to ask) will end. It'll be Déjà vu, to say the least.**

**Or is it something else when it's like that? Never mind. I'll just give away spoilers.**

**Well, then, if that's it… au revior, as they say in France. And, as the Doctor says, "Allons-y!"**


End file.
